His Other Half
by e-wilson22
Summary: Emma is the new kid at Beacon Hills. She meets Stiles, who she instantly has a connection with. They find they have a lot in common, but also a few severe is doesn't stop them from starting a chapter they're not sure they can finish. No matter how messy it might get.
1. Moving Just for a Case?

_Takes place before the Alpha is revealed and Scott and Allison go on their 'break'. _

**Emma's POV**

Emma Landson made her way down the unending school corridor, nervously playing with her necklace and biting her lip. As she mechanically followed the assistant teacher leading her to her new Biology class, she worringly thought of all the things that could go wrong on her first day in this vast, new school. Emma thought she had mentally prepared herself for her first day, but the numbness in her stomach begged to differ. She smoothed down her floral shirt, adjusting the navy blue blazer that fit around her back.

The assistant teacher stopped at a bulky, wooden door. She smiled politely at Emma, then rapidly knocked on the door. A tall, uninterested-looking man opened the door and looked at the two of them through his glasses.

"Mr. Harris, this is the new student I told you about: Emma," the assistant teacher informed.

"Alright," Mr. Harris said. Emma nodded, adjusting the straps of her backback on her shoulders.

"Alright," the assistant teacher chirped, turning to leave.

"Thank you," Emma called to her. She looked back at Emma, giving her yet another friendly smile. Emma turned to look back at her new Biology teacher, whom she found standing by the wide-open door, impatiently waiting for her to enter the classroom.

Emma shyly walked through the door. Her chestnut-brown eyes scanned the classroom. Everybody seemed to be oblivious to her presence, either writing or daydreaming.

"Class, this is our newest student, Emma," Mr. Harris' voice boomed. Emma felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She smiled at all the students staring at her. "Just sit in that free chair," Mr Harris mumbled to her, turning around and grabbing a piece of chalk to continue his lesson.

Emma looked around and spotted a empty seat. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and shuffled to the high, vacant stool. She put her backpack down on the floor beside her, trying to be as quiet as possible. She looked to her left to acknowledge the boy she was to share the desk with, who was already smiling at her.

"Hi," Emma quietly mumbled, giving him a small grin.

"Hey," he replied, flashing his charming smile. Emma turned to face the front of the classroom, unable to pay attention to the teacher. She was even more nervous, considering the fact that this guy beside her was adorable. She kept mentally repeating to herself, 'don't do anything embarrasing'.

After a few minutes of slow breathing and concentrating on the lesson, Mr. Harris announced a lab project.

"So, this is to be done with the person you're sharing the desk with. I'll be passing out the sheets," he told the classroom.

Emma snatched her backpack off the floor to get her writing utensils.

"So, what made you move here?" a male voice asked her. Emma looked up to her new project-partner as she took out her pencil-case.

"Oh, my- my dad," she answered, "I'm not sure if you've heard about the attacks going on in this town, but he came to work on the case."

"Wow, moving just for a case?"

"I know," Emma chuckled, "We really needed to move anyways, so.. I guess once the case is solved, my dad will hopefully be able to find a job with the police here."

"So, your dad is working with my dad," the guy nodded, "He's the Sherrif."

"Oh, interesting," Emma replied, wondering what to say next as she noticed his hazel eyes, "Sorry- what was your name?"

"Right, I'm-"

"Stiles," Mr. Harris' voice sounded. They both looked to see him standing beside their desk, holding a pile of papers. "Miss. Landson here came to this school with above-average marks in Science, however, I expect you to do your share in this project, understood?"

"So, you want me to not do anything.. okay, no problem," Stiles replied, with a grin. Emma looked over at Stiles, controlling her laughter.

"Miss. Landson, are you familiar with this unit?" Mr. Harris turned to Emma, already used to Stiles' sarcastic humor.

"Yes, I- I was near the end of this unit at my old school," Emma replied, nervously swallowing.

"And do tell me if you experience any problems with Mr. Stalinski here?"

"Yeah, I'll make sure to tell on him," Emma replied, immediately regretting her sardonic remark. She couldn't control her attitude when someone was unnessisarily rude. Mr. Harris placed two sheets of paper on their desk and moved on behind them. "He's a bit scary, isn't he?" Emma whispered to Stiles, coming a little closer to him than she intended.

"You get used to it," Stiles replied with a chuckle, "So, above-average marks?"

Emma sighed and proceeded to place one sheet of paper in front of Stiles and the other in front of her. She never liked to brag about her academic performance.

"I just develop good study habits," Emma modestly replied.

"Study habits? What are those?" Stiles joked, pushing his stool farther into the desk.

Emma giggled and looked down at her sheet. She realized how comfortable she already was around Stiles, admiring his friendliness. Her eyes studied the paper that presented several questions on the topic they were assigned. 'Once all the questions are completed, create a presentation on your topic, including the answers to each question, that is to last 5-10 minutes.' Emma chewed her lip once she read the final instruction. Presentation- fantastic.

"He's going to give us the topics, right?" Emma asked, lifting her head up from the sheet. Stiles' eyes quickly looked off into the distance, trying to hide the fact that he was staring at Emma.

"Um, yeah," Stiles replied, a bit embarrassed. "Can I borrow a pencil?"

Emma politely handed him a pencil.

Stiles licked his lips. "Thanks," he replied.

Emma smiled back at him and turned her head to the front of the classroom once Mr. Harris began explaining topic-selection.

It was a good first day so far.


	2. I'm in Love

Thank you for the reviews. :) They were lovely, literally made me smile like an idiot.

Stiles' POV

"...So, maybe we should leave that question until the end of the presentation," Emma suggested, pointing to the piece of paper Stiles was holding.

"Uh, yeah," Stiles replied, not sure what he just agreed to. Surprisingly, it wasn't the boredom of the subject that caused his lack of concentration on the project, but it was his lab partner. He continued to look at her stunning features as she looked over the paper for a hudredth time. Her brown eyes moved side-to-side, reading every line. She tucked a strand of her dirty-blonde hair behind one ear as she habitually bit her full bottom lip. Without even saying anything, Emma made him so nervous.

The school bell rang, signalling the end of last period. Stiles sighed, relieved. He always looked forward to the end of Biology class, however, he felt this new girl could change that.

"So, I'll do questions 6-10, and you can do 1-5?" Emma spoke over the sound of chairs squeaking as she collected her things.

"Yeah," Stiles repeated. Considering his great dislike for homework, Stiles felt glad that he finally had a project-partner that didn't doubt his productivity and gave him a share of the work.

"Ok, so, I'll see you tomorrow, Stiles," Emma chirped, giving him one last smile, before she turned to leave the classroom. Stiles just smiled back and made sure to look at her body as she walked away. He threw his paper and pencil in his backpack. He made his way out of the classroom, grabbed his sports equipment out of his locker, and made his way to lacrosse practice.

Once he got into the locker room, he threw his things onto the bench and began to get changed. Scott walked in and dropped his things right beside Stiles', groaning out of fatigue.

"Hey, dude, you okay?" Stiles curiously asked. Scott looked at him through tired eyes.

"Tired as hell," Scott groaned, "But you seem happy."

"I'm in love," Stiles responded, leaning on an empty locker with a goofy smile.

"In love?" Scott echoed. He chuckled, tieing his shoe-laces. "In love with who?"

"This new girl. In my Bio class. I got her as my project-partner, how lucky is that?"

Scott's tired face flashed a grin at his best friend and shook his head.

"So, you just met this girl, and you're in love with her?"

"Okay, maybe not in love- whatever, but she is hot." Scott snickered at his comment and gave Stiles a thumbs-up.

"Well, I'm happy for you," he replied, "Even if you are crazy."

The two of them proceeded to the field. After a long, tiring practice, they changed quickly and said their goodbyes.

Stiles got into his Jeep, throwing his backback in the passenger seat. He started the engine and zoomed out of the school parking-lot. As he drove down the vacant road, he noticed a figure on the side, with a backpack and carrying a pile of books. It didn't take him long to realize it was Emma. He slowed the car down, rolled out the window and called out,

"Hey!"

Emma jerked her head to him, nearly dropping the colossal amount of textbooks she was carrying. Clearly, she was startled. "Sorry," Stiles shouted, wincing. Emma laughed. Such an angel-like laugh.

"Stiles, hey," she said, bringing a smile to his face as he heard her say his name. Emma's dirty blond hair was a frizzy mess, due to the humidity. Her face was flushed and she was lightly panting.

"You need a ride?"

"You seem so shady," she joked, "It's fine- how much longer until I reach Crusberry Drive?"

"You'd have to turn the other way and walk about half an hour," Stiles chuckled. Emma smiled, embarrased.

"Of course," she mumbled.

"Come on, get in- you're going to melt," Stiles suggested, "I have air conditioning."

"Tempting," Emma replied, "You wouldn't mind?" How could he mind, he thought. He could never mind doing a favour for such a beautiful girl.

"Not at all," he cooly said. She smiled and walked towards the car, opening the door with her free hand. Stiles tossed his backpack to the backseat, freeing the passenger seat. She plopped down, stretching out her legs.

"Thanks so much, I really appreciate it," Emma told him, looking at him with hynotizing eyes.

Stiles did a light u-turn and drove towards Crusberry Drive. "Why were you walking? And with all those books?"

"I didn't intend to," Emma retorted, "My dad was supposed to pick me up, he told me I didn't need to drive my own car- after an hour of waiting at the school, I decided I could find my way back. I guess not. And turns out you need a gazillion different textbooks for five different subjects."

Stiles couldn't help but laugh at her situation, but she didn't seem to mind.

"How- how about you put your number in my phone the next time you need rescuing?" Stiles asked, without thinking, "Just text your number so you have mine." He immediatley felt he was being too forward and blushed.

"Sure," she chirped. "And in return, I'll make sure to text you, reminding you to do your homework, so you 'do your share in this project'," she replied, mocking their previous encounter with Mr. Harris. Stiles laughed and grabbed his phone out of his pocket. He handed it to her, feeling her fingers overlap his as she took it from him. This made him a bit nervous. As she typed in her information, Stiles had a hard time focusing on the road. He wanted to look over at Emma and just stare at her.

"And there," Emma stated, interrupting his thought.

"Thanks," Stiles said, putting the cellphone back into his pocket, "Okay, Crusberry Drive- your house number?"

"22," she said, "It's on the right." Stiles slowed down his Jeep in front of a quaint, white house. "Thanks so much- I really do appreciate it," Emma said, collecting her backpack that she placed earlier by her feet.

"No problem," he said, "I'll see you tomorrow. Don't forget to do your homework" Stiles winced at his last sentence. 'Don't forget to do your homework?', he mentally repeated, 'That's what you're leaving her with. Dork.'

"Yeah," Emma replied, giving him yet another heart-stopping smile, "Thanks again. See you."

Stiles grinned back at her. She closed the door and jogged past his Jeep. As she approached the driveway, Stiles began to slowly drove away- but made sure to check she made it inside the house.

Stiles couldn't stop smiling the entire ride home. Until he thought about all the homework he had to do. 


	3. How Was Your First Day?

**Emma's POV**

Emma shuffled through her backpack for her house-key. She turned to watch the Jeep drive down the street as her hand searched for the keys. She finally found the keys and stepped into her new home. Boxes crowded the front entrance. Emma kicked her shoes off, dropped her backpack and textbooks near the staircase and stepped over the mess. She went into the kitchen and snatched an apple off the dinner table. Emma sat in her dining-room chair and took a bite out of the apple. She thought about her new school and her new town. She thought about her first day and was quite satisfied with how it turned out.

Emma thought of Stiles, and it brought a smile to her face. She wondered if he had a girlfriend. Probably. A gorgeous guy like him would have so many girls chasing after him. She was reminded her of the homework she had. After her snack, she finished her homework, and took a long nap to try to wear away the fatigue.

"Emma!" the loud voice robbed Emma of her deep sleep. She opened her eyes and saw the hallway light turn on from her bed.

"Dad?" Emma called out, sitting up. Emma saw her father's shadowy figure open her door and turn on her light.

"Thank goodness, where were you?"

"Where was I?" Emma asked, blinking her eyes to adjust to the light, "I was waiting for you to pick me up at school."

"That's why you have a phone- I kept calling you to tell you I couldn't get out of work," her father, Bruce shouted. He put a hand on his hip, clearly upset. "I texted you, telling you I'd pick you up at the library at 4:30"

"Dad, I got a new phone- changed my number last week, remember?" Emma replied, slightly frustrated. Her dad was pretty good at forgetting things like that.

"Oh," Bruce embarissingly said, biting his lip. "I guess I didn't change it in my phone. How did you get home?"

"I walked," Emma lied. She wasn't sure why she couldn't just tell him she got a ride- she wasn't up for explaining.

"Well, then," her father announced, clearing his throat, "Dinner will be ready in 15 minutes." Emma used to hate how her father simply didn't have the ability to apologize, but by now, she was used to it.

Emma groaned and fell back into her bed. She looked at her alarm clock's red numbers. 5:04. After putting away some laundry and preparing her things for the next day of school, Bruce called for dinner.

"So, how was your first day?" Emma's father asked as they settled into their dinner-table chairs.

"Good."

"What did you do?"

"School stuff," Emma mumbled, shoving a fork-full of raviolli in her mouth, "How was your first day?"

"Good."

"What did you do?"

"Police-man stuff."

"So, how's that case? Found any dead bodies?" Emma excitedly asked. She always had a curiosity for her dad's work.

"Emma, you know that's confidential."

"Come on," Emma whined, with a sly grin on her face. Bruce remained silent. "Well, how are your new co-workers?" she asked, thinking of Stiles, wondering if her father met Stiles' father.

"They're good, I guess," Bruce replied. "So, your classes? How were they?"

"I only got to go to my last period class with all the paper-work," she replied, "But Bio. is good. Lots of homework already though." Emma tried to seem as casual as possible.

"Emma, I'm proud of you for adjusting so well here. I know times have been tough," her dad told her. The last thing Emma wanted was a flashback of the past few months. She promised herself to forget it all and start a new life in this new town.

"Yeah," she stuttered, "Do we have any root beer?" She left the dinner table without an answer and went straight to the fridge.

After their short dinner, Emma cleaned up the dishes and went back to bed, in hopes of getting a nice, long sleep. She did.

The annoying blaring of her alarm clock was the next thing that interupted Emma's sleep. She, however, woke up refreshed and excited for the day. She survived her first day at her new school. She'd be fine.

After rummaging through the boxes full of her clothing, Emma slipped on a pair of dark blue jeans and a white blouse along with a leather blazer. She studied her face in the mirror. Her brown eyes stared at her reflection. Emma smoothed her fingers through her shoulder-length dirty-blond hair and decided to put a thin, black headband to push back her long bangs.

After getting dropped off at school by her dad, and making sure he had her new phone number saved onto his phone, Emma made her way to her new school. She found her first period class, which was Gym, easily. She got aquainted with a few girls by the names of Sarah and Paisley. After a relaxing Yoga session in Gym, Emma found her second class, which was English. She reluctantly walked in, and spotted the teacher, who was shuffling through papers at the front desk. Emma quickly sped-walk to the teacher and introduced herself.

"Hi, I'm the new student," Emma said to the teacher's back. The teacher turned around and gave her a smile.

"Hi, Emma- I have books ready for you, just a minute," she politely said. Emma was thankful that there at least were some nice teachers at this school. As her new English teacher collected books off of her desk, Emma scanned her new classroom. That's when she spotted, on the far right of the classroom, none other than Stiles.


	4. What If She Thinks I'm Weird?

_Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews :) It's so nice to know that people are enjoying my story. Thank you!_

**Stiles' POV**

"No, I'm just saying," Stiles debated with Scott, "It's obvious-"

His voice trailed down to silence as he was interrupted by the sight of Emma. He watched her enter the classroom and approach the teacher, as she gripped the red binder she was holding. "Dude, that's her," he whispered to Scott, not breaking his visual on Emma. Her jeans outlined her lean legs and her hair perfectly framed her face. He looked at her as she bit her lip, something that was clearly an indication that she was nervous.

"I never thought I'd see you blush," Scott mumbled to Stiles, who turned back to him with an annoyed expression.

"My middle finger salutes you," Stiles retorted, with a sarcastic smile. Scott snickered at his friend's expression.

Stiles looked back over in Emma's direction. He watched her as she looked around the classroom. She finally looked over on the side of the room Stiles was sitting in. She spotted him. Embarrassed of being caught staring at her, he gave her a quick smile. She smiled back and turned her head back to the teacher's direction.

After a few minutes, the school bell blared, signalling the beginning of second period. Emma found an empty seat on the other side of the classroom and paid attention to the teacher's explanation of last night's homework.

"Stiles," the teacher called out, "What was your answer for number three?"

"Uh," Stiles fumbled over his words. He normally didn't care for what his classmates thought of him, or his teacher, for that matter- but knowing Emma was watching him, awaiting an answer, he began to feel anxious. He wasn't concentrating on the lesson at all so far. "No?" he guessed.

"So, the screenplay takes place in 'no'?" the teacher cynically repeated.

Stiles sighed and hung his head as chuckles waved across the room. He looked over to Emma's direction to see her staring down at her desk, concentrating on her textbook. He wasn't sure if she was pretending to not have heard his embarrasing display or if she really just was not listening.

"A tip, Stiles, would be actually doing your homework sometimes," she muttered, then moved on to the next victim.

"It's okay, dude," Scott whispered to him, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder. Stiles gave him a thankful nod as he lightly tapped his pencil against the desk.

"Oh, I completley forgot- class, this is our new student, Emma," the teacher announced, gesturing over to Emma. Emma smiled at the class and crossed her legs under her desk. "Emma, is there anything you'd like to say about yourself?"

"No," Emma quickly replied. It was her turn to be embarrased. The teacher moved on with the lesson. By the end of the class, everyone was copying down the questions the teacher had laid out on the board. Stiles sloppily did so, as well.

"Stiles!" Scott whispered. Stiles turned to see his friend's proud expression. "I could get Allison to get the new girl to sit with us at lunch." Stiles flashed him a thankful grin.

"You're the best friend ever," Stiles whispered back. "Guess what? I drove her home yesterday."

"And?"

"Well, that's it. We did exchange phone numbers," Stiles told him, nodding his head suggestively.

"Did you text eachother?"

"Well.." Stiles mumbled, "No- but we'll do plenty of talking during lunch, thanks to you." He turned around with a permanent smile. For the hundredth time, he looked over at Emma, who was looking out the window beside him. He quickly snapped his head back to avoid her catching him staring at her again.

**Emma's POV**

Emma quickly wrote down the questions that were on the board, as neatly as possible. She glanced up and looked out the window on the far wall. She watched as a small black bird hopped around on top of a tree branch. It flew away, leaving Emma to notice the very light drops of rain on the glass. She slowly looked over to see Stiles, writing out his answers. She admired his profile, but quickly snapped out of it and looked back down at her desk.

Soon after, the bell rang and as the other students began to pack up, Emma did the same. As she tossed her eraser in her pencil case, there was a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see a tall brunette smiling at her.

"Hi, Emma- right?" the friendly girl asked.

"Yeah."

"I'm Allison," she said, leaning on a nearby empty desk, "I was the new girl not that long ago- it's pretty nerve-wracking."

"I know!" Emma exclaimed, chuckling, "And I hate when they ask you to talk about yourself- I never know what to say." Allison nodded her head agreeingly.

"Do you want to spend lunch with me and my friends?" Allison politely offered.

"Sure, thanks," Emma answered, relieved. She had spent a lot of English worrying as to what to do during lunch.

The two of them walked out of the classroom side-by-side.

**Stiles' POV**

As he swung his backpack around his shoulder, Stiles noticed Emma and Allison leaving the classroom together. He began to feel butterflies in his stomach.

"What are we going to talk about?" Stiles worringly asked Scott.

"What?" Scott obliviously asked. He was preoccupied with his phone, scrolling through his text messages.

"What if she thinks I'm weird?"

"You are weird," Scott assured him, "When have you ever cared so much?" The two of them began walking out of the classroom.

"Scott, this is the first girl, that in a long time, I could have a chance with," Stiles explained, smoothing down his plaid shirt, "She's oblivious to my social status." Scott shook his head, laughing.

"Stiles, did you have too much Adderall again?" Stiles hit the back of Scott's head. He looked ahead as the two of them walked towards the cafeteria. They spotted Allison and Emma sitting across from eachother at a nearby table. Stiles took a deep breath.


	5. Then We Can Study

_Thank you for the reviews :) Glad to hear so many people want me to update so badly :P I hope you enjoy this one!_

**Emma's POV**

"...moving around a lot," Allison said, unwrapping the sandwich on her lunch tray. This girl seemed really nice and friendly. Emma nodded along to her new friend's story. She looked down as she pulled off the lid that covered the container of salad. She looked up to see a guy bending over and giving Allison a kiss on the cheek. She recognized him from her English class.

"Hi," the guy casually said, sitting down beside Allison. "I'm Scott- pretty sure you know Stiles." A figure appeared to Emma's left side and sat beside her. She instantly recognized the face that smiled back at her. It was Stiles. Emma felt a rush of blood go to her face. Her stomach went numb at the sight of him.

"Nice to meet you, Scott," Emma said, trying to act as casual as possible, "Hi, Stiles."

Stiles licked his lips before he spoke. "Hey," his friendly voice sounded as he looked to Allison, "What are you guys talking about?"

"Just relating to how tough it is moving," Allison confidently told them, "But you two wouldn't know what that's like."

"Where did you move from?" Scott asked Emma.

"Allison, I was looking for you," a high voice said. A girl with long, strawberry-blonde hair stood beside Alison. She threw her bag on the lunch table, put her hand on her hip and looked at Allison for an answer.

"I was just- this is Emma, new student," Allison replied, gesturing to Emma, "Emma, this is Lydia." Lydia turned her gaze to look at Emma.

"What are you doing at _this_ school?" she asked, uninterested.

"Eating lunch," Emma replied, smiling. There it was again- Emma just couldn't control herself when someone was acting unnessisarilly rude. She heard Stiles snickering beside her. Lydia did not look impressed.

"Whatever," Lydia turned her head back to Allison, "I'll see you at the game tonight, okay?" She dusted off her skirt, snatched her colossal bag and walked away.

"I don't think she likes me," Emma mumbled to them.

"Don't worry about it- I don't think she really likes anyone," Stiles consoled her. Emma nodded as the three of them chuckled.

"So, Emma are you going to go to the game?" Scott asked. Emma noticed him raise his eyebrows at Stiles.

"Game?" Emma echoed.

"Lacrosse game- it's their football," Allison explained to Emma. It was clear that she was explained this when she was the new girl.

"That sounds fun," Emma said joyfully, "What time?"

"Around 3:30," Scott answered.

"I don't know, I'd have to ask my dad, but I'd definitely like to," Emma assured them, "In fact I'll ask him right now." Emma reached into her pocket and took out her cellphone. She texted her father 'Game after school- can I watch, then u come pick me up around 5?' as the rest of them proceeded to converse.

"Spoon game," Emma said as soon as she put her her phone away.

"What?" Stiles asked.

"Does everyone have a metal spoon?" she asked, checking everyone's tray. "Ok, competition to see who can balance the spoon on their nose the longest."

"You're on," Allison chirped.

"I must warn you- I'm pretty good at this game," Emma boasted, cleaning the tip of her spoon.

"Is the spoon game like football at your old school?" Scott joked.

"Ha, ha," Emma sarcastically muttered.

"What does the winner get?" Stiles asked eagerly. She liked the fact that he was so into the idea.

"Interesting.." Emma trailed on, scanning the cafeteria table. She gasped and pulled a sryan-wrapped brownie out of her paper bag. "Winner gets this double-fudge brownie."

"Alright," Allison laughed.

"On your mark, get set.." Emma hushed, "Spoons up!" The four of them quickly placed each of their spoons on their nose. It didn't take long to hear the sound of a spoon clanging onto the table. Scott threw his hands up in defeat. Next, it was Allison's spoon that fell in her lap.

"At least we're losers together," Allison whispered to Scott, who gave her a peck on the lips.

Emma looked over at Stiles, who was holding his arms out for balance. He chuckled, then suddenly sneezed, causing his spoon to drop onto the table. Emma smiled, taking the spoon off her nose and holding her hands up in victory.

"First place brownie goes to.." Emma happily slid the brownie towards herself. "Seeing as I played a bunch of rookies, I'd be happy to split this."

The three of them chuckled and smiled at Emma. She suddenly felt a vibration in her pocket. "Go crazy," she told them, tossing the brownie at the center of the table.

She opened her new text message from Dad, that read 'sounds good, kiddo.' "Guess I'm going to the game," Emma excitedly said, putting her cellphone back into her pocket.

"Great," Allison exclaimed, brushing her bangs out of her eyes.

Emma was excited for the game. Mainly because it meant she could have a social life again, and not spend her Friday nights lying in bed with her cat.

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles felt his legs beginning to burn as he jogged to last period. He really didn't want to upset his new project-partner by already being late to their first work period. As the bell rang, he stepped into the class, smiling once he saw Emma, sitting at her seat, resting her chin on her hand. He made eye contact with her as he sped-walk to the stool beside her. She smiled, sitting up as the teacher's voice began to boom through the classroom.

"Hey," Stiles mumbled under his breath to Emma. She nodded in his direction and turned her head back to the front of the classroom.

After the instructions were given, Emma turned towards Stiles. Their legs brushed against eachother, making his heart beat faster. She looked at him through thick eyelashes, resting her arms on her knees.

"Excited for the game?" Emma asked, clearly noticing the lacrosse stick sticking out of his backpack.

"More like petrified," he responded, pursing his lips. She giggled and nodded in understanding.

"Who are you playing?" she curiously asked.

"This school, Bluevale," Stiles replied, feeling like his eyes were glued to hers, "But I'm more of a bench-warmer." Stiles regretted his last statement. He definitely did not want to come off as self-pitying.

"I'm sure you're a great player," Emma consoled him sweetly, "You'll be able to play soon enough. Besides, the bench can get lonely- it needs some company." Stiles smiled at her courtesy. "Alright," she said, clearing her throat as she pulled her binder out of her backpack. "You got your answers?" Stiles proudly slid his homework out of his backpack and presented it on the desk.

"Looks good," Emma chirped, giving him a small grin. She took out her binder and plopped it on the table-top. "I was thinking, we should just get a big board for our visual."

"Over-achiever," Stiles stuffled in a cough. Emma laughed a playfully hit his shoulder.

"I was just thinking, with a board-"

"I was just thinking, with a board," Stiles mocked, holding up a finger in the air. Emma laughed, shaking her head as she organized the papers on the desk. "Sorry," Stiles apologized, holding out his hands in mercy, "What were you saying?"

"A board would be a great visual," she clearly stated, folding her arms in front of her, "If you don't mind the extra work." Extra work? Extra work meant extra time with Emma. He didn't mind at all.

"Yeah, that's fine. It would get us a good mark and the 54 per cent I'm sitting at isn't exactly safe," he rambled, "Whoa, I am saying a lot of things. I do that when I'm nervous. Not that I'm ner- Care to stop me?"

"No, please, do continue," Emma suggestively remarked, enjoying his nervousness.

"I didn't think of you to be so cruel," Stiles replied, feeling his cheeks redden.

"Looks can be decieving." He agreed whole-heartedly there. A girl that looked like that could have an awful personality and would probably still have boys chasing after her. Given what he knew she far, she was genuine. And kind. She didn't seem to know how beautiful she really was. And that made him even more nervous around her.

Stiles kept hungrily glancing at her lips as she looked over his homework. "Wow, this is a lot of information," she said, impressed.

"Google," Stiles replied, smiling. He did spend a while on his homework- probably more than he did in a months, however, he wasn't ever really good at taking compliments.

"Well, it looks good," she insisted, "Now, to put this all into a presentation." Stiles groaned and rested his chin on his hand.

"Class," Mr. Harris called. Emma looked in the teacher's direction. "You are all to present on Wednesday. The test for this unit is on Friday." The whole classroom moaned.

"Friday?" Stiles exclaimed, a little louder than intended. He turned to Emma. "So, within a week, we have a presentation and a unit test," he reviewed, trying to convince himself it was true.

"That's brutal," Emma said, shaking her head disapprovingly. "Let's just focus on getting this presentation done, then we can study." 'We?' he thought. He instantly began daydreaming of them spending time together outside of school. Maybe at his house. In his bedroom.

"Sounds good," he said, snapping out of his daydream. Stiles looked down at his sheet and wrote his name at the top. He felt Emma's hand lightly strike his, causing the 't' he was working on to look more like a wavy line.

"I love doing that," Emma chuckled. He looked over to see her pearly innocent smile.

"You _are_ evil," Stiles said, looking down and erasing the mistake. Emma laughed and dropped out of her seat.

"Don't cry, it's okay," she consoled him, patting him on his shoulder. She was touching him. He began to feel like a idiotic over-hormonal fool, getting so anxious over a friendly pat on the back. "I'll go ask Mr. Harris if the board idea is okay," Emma confirmed, turning and walking to the front of the class.

**Emma's POV**

Emma had never had so much fun in Biology class. She didn't know what it was about Stiles that made her so comfortable with herself. Granted, he still made her very nervous, but not to the point where she was afraid what to say.

After confirming she could have a visual during the presetation, Emma walked back to her seat. Stiles licked his lips before he spoke. She loved it when he did that.

"And?" he asked.

"He said sure," Emma replied, plopping down on the stool, "Let's just focus on the oral part of the presentation now."

The rest of the class went by very quickly. Emma and Stiles completed what they intended to finish, but made sure to make flirtacious remarks to eachother along the way.

"Now, as for the board-" Emma was interupted by the blaring of the bell.

"That is the most work I have ever done in a class," Stiles muttered, his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry- I hope I didn't tire you out," Emma said, worried. She didn't want him to be too fatigued before the game.

"No, I feel like my brain is bigger," he chirped, sitting up and stretching his arms behind him. Emma couldn't help but gaze at his body as he stretched. Her eyes trailed down from his shoulders to his abdomen. Unsuspecting of this, Stiles grabbed his belongings and threw them into his backpack. Emma giggled and did the same with her things. They walked out of the classroom together.

"I'll, uh, see you at the game," Stiles confirmed as they walked down the hallway.

"Yeah," she stuttered, looking up at his sparkling hazel eyes. He turned into a different corridor. Yes, she was to see him at the game. If only she could figure out why she was feeling so nervous.


	6. What Was That!

**Emma's POV**

Emma sat on the crowd-filled bleachers, looking out at the barren field ahead of her. Allison and Lydia sat on her right, discussing different malls in the area. Emma watched as a crowd of teenage boys, all wearing yellow jerseys, stomped on the field. A few people in the crowd cheered.

"That must be Bluevale's team," Emma told Allison and Lydia, pointing to the group on the field.

"Number 4 is hot," Lydia whispered. Allison chuckled and shook her head. On the other side of the field, another group of guys came out, this time following a louder roar from the crowd. Emma looked to her side to see Allison and Lydia standing and clapping. Emma followed, bursting out of her seat and clapping. She searched through the crowd to find Stiles and was gutted when she couldn't pick him out.

When the cheers from the crowd died down, the three girls sat back down on the cool metal bleachers and awaited the game to start.

"I like your bag," Emma called over to Lydia's direction. Lydia's green eyes stared over to Emma's.

"This thing?" Lydia scoffed, looking down at the maroon bag sitting on her lap, "It's so old. I've been dying to get a new one." Emma nodded, not sure how to carry on the conversation.

"We should go shopping, then," Allison suggested, proud of her idea.

"Only if we go to Ronten Mall," Lydia commended with a spry look on her face.

"Sure," Allison agreed, "Let's go on Saturday."

"That sounds great," Emma responded, "I haven't even been out yet since I got here. Only for school."

"Where did you say you moved from?" Lydia uttered.

"I didn't," Emma chuckled. She looked at Lydia's unimpressed face and answered, "Oregon."

"Why?" Lydia muttered, as if she was interogating Emma.

"Work. My dad," Emma answered, trying to keep her answer as simple and uninteresting as possible. The referree's whistle interupted their conversation. As their heads turned towards the field, Emma sighed, relieved.

The game began shortly afterwards. It didn't take long for Beacon Hills' team to score. As the game went on, Emma noticed someone sitting at the bench on the side-lines. His short brown hair indicated to Emma that it was Stiles, bringing an uncontrollable smile to her face.

Halfway in the game, one of the yellow jerseys seemed to purposely whack a dark purple jersey down in the middle of the field. A loud 'oh!' came from the crowd, suggesting the hit was very painful.

"That wasn't pretty," Emma stated with a harrowing grimace on her face. A few men in white came out, cautiously checking on the hurt boy. The injured player was moving, but not much. They soon carried him out on a stretcher. Emma noticed the bristly-haired coach watching, with his hands on his hips. He turned to the sidelines, clearly upset, talking to someone. Emma moved her head to see more clearly, and noticed the coach was talking to Stiles. Soon after, Stiles jogged on to the field.

"Oh, they put Stiles in," Allison remarked, not too intersted. Emma felt overjoyed to see Stiles getting into the game. She could tell he really wanted to- his eager expression was a confirmation of that. The whistle blew, signalling the continuation of the game. Emma kept her eyes on Stiles as he jogged around the field, anticipating the ball being passed to him.

Once he did get the ball, Stiles ran with it. He skillfully dodged the opponents and passed it to a teammate, proving Emma's feeling that he was a good player to be true. Emma proudly watched him, daydreaming of giving him a congratulatory hug.

As the game went on, with Beacon Hills 2 points in the lead, Emma worringly watched the time. It was almost 5, which was when she arranged for her father to pick her up. She hoped the game would come to end soon. Mainly so she could talk to Stiles, and maybe celebrate with her new group of friends.

She looked up from her cellphone, spotting Stiles struggling with a yellow-jersey player. The Bluevale player was nudging Stiles behind him. Suddenly, the frustrated opponent thrusted his elbow back, clearing smacking Stiles in the face. Stiles stepped back, ripping off his helmet and holding his nose.

Emma charged out of her seat, yelled out a loud "What was that?" Emma noticed she was the only one standing. She plopped back down, her cheeks reddened, realizing no-one was paying attention the far corner, where Stiles was and where the ball definitely was not. Emma felt a wave of embarrasement go through her body as Allison looked at her, confused.

"That jerk hit another one of our players," Emma exclaimed, gesturing to the field. She was very careful not to mention Stiles' name.

"Really?" Allison said, looking to the field. They saw a group of Beacon Hills players surrounding another, as the one in the center shook his head and held up his hands- it was Stiles saying he was fine.

"That's Stiles, isn't it?" Lydia suggestively remarked. It was clear she knew it was.

"I think so," Allison replied to Emma's relief. Stiles continued to shake his hands dismissively. He placed his helmet back on his head and ran back to his place. Yet another thing Emma found she admired in him. He didn't seem like the type of person to make a big deal out of anything. He seemed so laidback. The whistle told everyone the game was to be continued. Emma wondered how Stiles felt. What he was thinking.

Emma's cellphone buzzer interupted her thoughts. She looked down at her cellphone, which read 'New Message from Dad'. To her dismay, Emma read the message, 'where are you? i'm in the parking lot'. She checked the time. 5:12 p.m. The game had about 10 minutes left.

"What's the matter?" Allison asked, noticing Emma's concerned expression.

"I have to go- my dad is waiting," Emma groaned, snatching the strap off her backpack and snugging it over her shoulder.

"Oh, bummer," Allison whined. "I was hoping we could all hang out after the game." This didn't make Emma feel any better. She would've told her dad to wait, or to go back home, or to drive her to where they would be hanging out- but she would feel too guilty about it. Emma didn't want to trouble her father any more than he already was.

"Yeah," Emma responded, "Well, thanks for inviting me- I had a great time. I'm pretty sure they've won the game." She stood up, smiling at both of them.

"Mall on Saturday, right?" Lydia chirped to Emma's surprise.

"Yeah, definitely," she responded, grinning at both of them. Emma adjusted her backpack and walked off the stands and into the parking-lot. She saw her father's red van awaiting her. Emma swung open the door and slid into the passenger seat, keeping her backpack on her back. She tried hard to hide her displeasure.

"Where were you?"

"Sorry, I lost track of time," Emma replied, bending over and giving her dad a peck on the cheek.

"No problem," Bruce responded, putting the car into drive.

"When can I start driving my car?" Emma asked, anxious. She looked over to her father's fatigued face.

"When you get more used to the area- I swear, the roads are more narrow here," Bruce responded. Emma chuckled, thankful she didn't tell him about not being able to find home the other day- he would've never let that go. She started to stare out the window and realized she was more tired than she thought. "We got a lot of unpacking to do, kiddo."

"Joy," Emma sarcastically said.

"Which reminds me, I might have to go help your Grandma get settled in her new house back home- I'll probably sleep over," her father explained.

"When?"

"This weekend," Bruce confirmed. Emma went back to looking out the window. "I, uh, got a permanent position as an officer here," Emma's father remarked. Without even looking at him, she knew he had a smile on her face.

"Dad! That's great!" Emma shrieked. She didn't quite know how she felt about this, however, she did know her father was happy. "I'm so proud! So, the case is taking some time, huh?"

"Don't even try that, missy," Bruce warily replied, "You can't squeeze anything out of me." Emma laughed and clapped her hands. For the first time in a while, Emma saw a genuine smile on her father's face.

As soon as Emma got home, she went on her laptop. She checked her e-mail to find a message from her old friend, Jenna, back in Oregon and replied. After she quickly found some pictures she thought would look good on her Biology project and printed them, Emma thought of Stiles and immediatley snatched her cellphone out of her pocket. She navigated to send a text message. Going through her contact list, she found 'Stiles' and began to type. But her fingers stalled. Her brain reminded her of the embarrasing display she put on, screaming out of the stands when an opponent purposely injured him. She groaned at the recollection of the event. Looking back down at the empty message box, she wasn't sure what to say. She wanted to say he played well. She wanted to ask how he was feeling, particularly after he got hit in the face. She wanted to apologize for leaving the game early. 'Should I say sorry?' she questioned herself, 'I don't want to act like I did a favour for him by going.'

After a few minutes, Emma finally sent the message saying, 'hey, your lacrosse playing was not too shabby :) how's your nose? :o' Not too satisfied with the message, Emma placed her phone on her dresser and stood up, looking at the boxes piled up by the wall. She opened the top box, which was full of shirts and jewellery. She sighed and began to take out her belongings and fold them in the empty closet that was now hers.


	7. That's All so Very Interesting

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles examined his face in the locker room mirror as his teammates conversed in the background. He saw the bridge of his nose slowly turning a dark blue colour.

"Hey, you ok?" Scott asked for about the hundredth time.

"Just a bruise," Stiles replied, looking at himself one last time in the mirror. He turned to look at Scott. "At least I got to play," he said, with a goofy smile.

"And you played well," his best friend assured him.

"Tell that to the coach," Stiles mumbled, walking over to the bench to take off his knee-pads.

"Alright, ladies," the coach's hoarse voice called them, "Good playing today. I want to see that next week." The coach began to discuss game strategies as the athletes changed out of their sweat-drenched equipment.

Stiles swung open the locker containing his things. He heard his phone let out a message reminder beep. After changing into dark jeans and a plain red t-shirt, Stiles checked his phone. It was a new message from Emma. He smiled as he opened the text message. 'hey, your lacrosse playing was not too shabby :) how's your nose? :o' He tried to conceal his grin as he wrote back a reply. 'thanks, you were not bad at being a spectator. :P it's fine, barely left a scratch ;)' After a while of deciding whether or not to leave the winking face, he finally replied to her text.

"Allison wants to go out for burgers now- do you want to come?" Scott interupted him. Stiles squinted his eyes in thought, acting as if it was a serious decision. "I don't know if Emma's coming," Scott stated before Stiles could reply.

"I can just taste the grease," Stiles remarked nodding, "I'm in."

As he slipped on his sneakers and reached for his jacket, his phone beeped. He eagerly grabbed it to find a new text message from Emma. 'haha, thank you. glad to hear it :) see you tomorrow!' Puzzled, Stiles collected all his things and walked out of the locker room with Scott. He saw Allison, Lydia and Jackson waiting by the stands in light conversation. His eyes trailed the small group for Emma, but she was no-where to be seen. He felt his stomach drop. He was really looking forward to seeing her again.

**Emma's POV**

"Three boxes down, two to go," Emma muttered to herself, studying her room. Half her clothes were in the closet, and the other half sat in the rest of the boxes, waiting to be put away. She managed to neatly put away all her jewelery and books into drawers and onto shelves, which she was proud of. Her new room wasn't bad. It was painted a light, calming blue. The window, draped with fresh, white linen curtains, faced the street. It presented a darker, blue sky to Emma, she presumed rain was soon to come. She looked at the time. 6:43 p.m. Emma wondered what was next on the agenda- she certainly did not want to clean anymore.

"Dad, I'm going for a run!" Emma called to her father, placing her MP3 earbuds into her ears. She looked down at herself, dusting off her black yoga pants and adjusting the dark blue sweater she decided to wear.

"I'd rather you didn't," Bruce said, stepping out of the dining room as he took off his glasses.

"Why not?" Emma asked, nearly stomping her foot. She felt it would be nice, for once, to be able to do what she wanted to do.

"It's getting dark, and.."

"What?" Emma asked, stepping forward with a worried gleam in her eyes.

"There have been reports of somethi- someone out there," Bruce answered, wincing.

"Don't worry about it, dad," Emma said, dismissively tossing her hand in the air, "I'll just go up the road. And I have my phone." She rattled it and placed it in her sweater pocket. She zipped up the pocket and smiled at her paranoid father.

"I'll be back by 7:30," she told him, giving him a sly smile.

"Be safe," Bruce called back, nervously clutching his reading glasses.

As Emma jogged down the pavement, hitting the ground beneath her hard as her music blasted into her ears, she thought of her current situation. What brought her here in this town. She shook her head, refusing to let her mind go that way and told herself just to focus on the run. After about 20 minutes of consistent running, Emma slowed down to a walk, deciding to turn around and run back home. She turned and delicately took the earbuds out of her ears to hear the sounds surrounding her. She walked, with her hands on her hips, glancing over at the deep, beautiful forest. Suddenly, a dark shadowy figure appeared in the distance, rattling the thick tree it was standing by. Emma took a deep breath, blinking her eyes, not sure about what she was seeing. She focused her glance back to where she saw it. There was nothing. Nervously chuckling, she convinced herself it was just a silly hallucination. Emma ran back home, as if someone was chasing her.

Once she reached her home and walked through the front door, to her father's relief, she grabbed a light dinner and went back up to her room. After a hot long-needed shower, Emma changed into her pajamas and lied in bed. She was tired, yet her mind was refusing to let her sleep. She was staring at the cieling, wide-eyed. Thinking of her dad, her new home, her new life. Thinking of Stiles.

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles sat at the off-white restaurant table, scarfing down curly fries. He looked up to see Lydia's disgusted face. He shrugged it off, taking a sip of his soda.

"Is the food even touching your tounge?" Jackson spat.

"What?" Stiles asked, a mouthful of food. Scott and Allison were oblivious to the conversation as they sat at the end of the large booth, whispering to eachother. Stiles wondered what it would be like if Emma was there.

"Can't you see he's emotionally eating? His little girlfriend ditched him," Lydia sassed, raising an eyebrow.

"I have a girlfriend?" Stiles responded, wiping the mustard off the corner of his mouth.

"Just admit it, Stiles- you totally have the hots for that new girl," Lydia spat at him, raising her plastic fork at him. Jackson stared at Stiles with a clenched jaw

"Is that so? Thanks for letting me know, Lydia. I'll make sure to write that in my diary," he responded, winking at her.

"Well, she definitely has some weird nerd-crush on you," Lydia implied. This raised Stiles' attention, however, he tried to act casual. "She practically freaked out when that guy hit you." Stiles recollected to the memory of getting injured on the playing field. He tried to imagine Emma's reaction to the incident and made a mental note to think about that later.

"That's all so very interesting," Stiles replied, failing to look up at Lydia.

"I want to go home," Lydia ordered, dropping her fork into her garden salad. "We're gonna go, Allison," Lydia raised her voice.

"Oh," Allison said, turning her head to the three of them, "I'll see you tommorow."

Jackson and Lydia stood up and left, both with upset grimaces on their faces.

"We should get going, too" Scott muttered, standing up.

"Come on!" Stiles whined, "We haven't even had the personal apple pies yet!"

"Jeez, Stiles, how much can you eat?" Allison asked.

"A lot," Scott answered for him.

Stiles threw a crumpled up napkin on the table-top and shoved the last of his hamburger into his mouth. He said his goodbyes to Scott and Allison and drove home.

After spending a couple of hours on his computer, Stiles went to bed. The last thing he thought of before drifting off was Emma.


	8. Don't Tell Me there were Curly Fries

_Your reviews are lovely, thank you so much :) I hope you enjoy this chapter!_

**Emma's POV**

As Emma walked into her English class, failing to look in Stiles' direction, fearing he was clued in on her embarrasing display at the previous night's game, she took her backpack off her shoulder. She slid in the cold plastic seat she sat in the day before. She pulled the sleeves to her dark maroon cardigan over her hands and rested her elbows on the desk, then her head in her hands.

After a long English class that had momentary good moments- which was when Emma caught a gaze with Stiles- she jumped out of her seat once the bell rang.

"Hey," a high voice chirped behind her. Emma turned to see Allison's bright face smiling at her.

"Hi, Allison," Emma said back, sliding her books off the desktop and cradeling them to her chest.

"Bummer you had to leave last night," she mumbled as she walked to Emma's side. The two began to stroll down down the desk-aisle, meeting Stiles and Scott right before the door.

"T.G.I.F, huh?" Emma announced. 'Wow, you're cool,' Emma sarcastically thought to herself, squinting her eyes with frustration.

"Yeah," Allison replied, eager to speak, "You know, we won the game last night."

"I figured," Emma chuckled, looking at Scott and Stiles. She caught eyes with Stiles, who was the farthest away from her in the line they were walking in. "Congrats."

"Thanks- I don't understand where those Bluevale players learned it's okay to try to kill the other team," Scott complained. Emma listened, however, was eager to hear Stiles' voice.

"I don't know what that one dude's problem was, but I bet it's hard to pronounce," Stiles muttered. Allison chuckled before she spoke once more.

"Well, at least that's over. Jamaican patties are half off on Fridays, right?" she muttered as they walked into the cafeteria. They found an empty table and sat at it. This time, Emma sat with Allison and Scott and Stiles across of them. As she placed her backpack beside her, Emma looked up to see Stiles right across from her. She noticed his green and brown striped shirt, gathering how it made his nearly copper-coloured burnished eyes pop. She wondered if he had changed as many times as she did this morning. Emma flashed back to just a few hours ago- pulling on what seemed like hundreds of different tops to find one that she felt wasn't too plain but not too flashy either. She finally decided on a dark-red cardigan over a white tank-top, pairing it with a long necklace that had the outline of a dove hanging off the end of it.

"I've been meaning to ask," Emma turned to Allison, trying to make her infatuation with Stiles dubious, "Are there any good pizza places around here?"

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles watched silently as Emma intently listened to Allison. Her full, butterscotch coloured hair fell to her shoulders in soft waves. Her rich, blushed lips were pursed as she contemplated whatever Allison was saying. Emma began to converge her attention to the sticker on her deep red apple she held in her hand.

Stiles felt a nudge on his forearm. He looked to Scott who shook his head with perplextion, as if he was mentally saying, 'what are you doing?' With crimson cheeks, Stiles cleared his throat and looked down to his uninteresting lunch.

"We're going to go get drinks," Allison announced to Scott and Stiles, swinging her legs over the bench she and Emma were sitting on. Emma followed and walked beside Allison towards the vending machines.

"Dude, calm it with the hormones," Scott snickered, throwing a potato chip in his mouth.

"Says the wer-," Stiles quickly stopped himself, "Am I that obvious?"

"Oh, isn't he adorable when he's smitten?" Scott teased, pinching Stiles' pink cheek. Stiles slapped his hand away, clearing his throat and looking intently at Scott.

"Seriously, shut up, you're so loud," he warned him, paranoid.

"Stiles- I haven't seen you like this.. ever," Scott stated, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, "Whatever stopped the whole Lydia obsession?"

"Emma," he simply replied with a thankful smirk on his face, "Dude, I have no game whatsoever. What if I bore her? What if-"

"I wouldn't worry about that- she's always looking at you," Scott answered, clearly amused by his friend's paranoia.

"Really?"

"Aw, so cute," Scott said in a high voice.

"Wait, when you said looking at me, are you serious or just joking? I-"

"Hey, guys!" Scott exclaimed as Emma and Allison came back to sit across from them. Stiles snapped his head to see the girls get adjusted in their seats.

"What did you get?" Stiles spat out, almost yelling at Emma.

"Orange juice," Emma replied, placing the bottle of orange liquid beside her lunch bag on the tabletop.

"Cool," Stiles said, with a little too much enthusiasm.

"Can you believe they didn't have any root beer?" Emma asked, looking at all of them with a shocked face.

"Are you kidding? Root beer is gross," Allison muttered, turning the lid on her flavoured-water bottle.

"Root beer is the greatest invention known to man. After those pendulum things, of course," Stiles responded, wagging his finger as if teaching a lesson.

"Of course," Emma echoed, swinging her hand to Stiles. "Those things are so cool," she whispered, leaning closer to the group.

"I'd say ferris wheels are the coolest invention," Scott retorted, shaking his bag of potato chips.

"They're pretty cool, too, if it wasn't for the whole going up to a high distance where you could fall to your death from," Emma replied.

"You don't like heights?" Allison asked.

"I'm terrified of them."

"I'm terrified of spiders" Allison replied, shivering.

"Clowns freak me out," Scott chimed in.

"What scares you?" Emma curiously asked Stiles.

"I'm invincible and fearless," Stiles replied, sticking out his chest, looking smugly into the distance and placing his fists on the sides of his torso.

"Public speaking. He nearly cried about a month ago when he had to do a presentation for English," Scott matter-of-factly told her, "You should of seen it-"

"I already told you; I had some funky nachos that day, and I wasn't feeling good.." Stiles seriously told him.

Emma let out an angel-like laugh at his comment, followed by chuckles from Allison and Scott. Stiles snickered and sighed. He thought to himself that he liked lunch even better now, and it wasn't for the food.

**Emma's POV**

After her second Economics class, Emma was eager to get to Biology. She made sure to make a stop at the washroom, smoothing down her hair and smacking her lips in the mirror. She happily strolled into her last period class, sharing a grin with Stiles.

"Hey, how are you?" Emma questioned once she got to her seat, throwing her backpack up on the desktop.

"Good, you?" Stiles quickly responded, stretching his arms out in front of him.

"Good! Oh, are you okay?" Emma questioned, examing his nose, "I forgot to ask- I mean about your nose." She came close to him to notice a small blue spot on the bridge of his nose, inhaling a intoxicating smell. Was he wearing cologne?

"I'm not the one that should be worried about- I heard you had quite a reaction up in the stands," Stiles teased. Emma's eyes widened as she leaned back into her seat.

"Well- I saw it a great injustice.. and I just wanted that to be obvious," she stuttered, biting her bottom lip at the end of her sentence.

"Oh, it was," Stiles teased, nodding.

"Do you want your nose to actually break? Because I'll do the honours," Emma joked, presenting a clenched fist.

"Easy," he replied, chuckling, "I appreciate the fact that I have such great fans. Well, one fan- but that's enough."

The corners of her mouth turned into a sly smile. She looked at him, noticing light freckles scattered across his upper cheeks.

**Stiles' POV**

"Well, you did get to play," Emma said, giving him yet another dreamy smile.

"I did," Stiles snickered, drumming his pencil against the desk, "I guess you're like a good luck charm." He felt like his heart would beat out of his chest.

"Happy to be of service," she said as pulled her hair back into a messy ponytail, skillfully wrapping the black hairtie around her honeyed hair, "But what about that guy that had to be carried out?"

"Oh, yeah, Josh," Stiles replied, noticing a small beauty spot placed right under her ear, "I talked to him first period- he's fine.. pretty much got the wind knocked out of him, though."

"Good thing he's okay," Emma assured, pulling out a duotang from her backpack. "So, I printed off a couple of pictures I think would be good for the project. Yes, that's what I did last night, don't laugh at me."

"I'm not laughing," Stiles responded, fighting the urge to call her cute, "My night wasn't so great, either. We went out for hamburgers, which was good, but no-one else was really into it."

"How could you not be into hamburgers?" Emma remarked, tucking her long bangs behind her ear, "Don't tell me there were curly fries." Stiles smirked, insuring his assumption about her being there and having a good time to be true.

"That's why you should've stayed." 'Was that too forward?', he thought. He definitely was gutted about Emma not going out with the rest of them after the game.

"Trust me, I wanted to! But, my dad was already there to pick me up," Emma mumbled as she spread out different sheets across their desk.

"Oh," Stiles realized, wondering what to say next. Thankfully, Emma took the opportunity.

"Ok, so, what do you think about these photos? Which one stands out to you?" she stood up, and stepped back, holding her hand up to her chin, as if making a very big decision. Stiles felt happy to be included in a partnered-project. He couldn't remember the last time someone had the courtesy to get his opinion on an assignment. Stiles stood up and stalled behind his stool, mirroring Emma, which made her chuckle.

"They actually all look really good," he complemented her.

"Google," Emma replied, referring to their earlier conversation, turning to look at him. He looked down at her cinnamon eyes, finally noticing the great height-difference they had. The top of her head merely reached his chin.

**Emma's POV**

She stood, frozen, facing Stiles. She looked up at his eyes, expecting him to say she was short. Even though she was an average height, many people told her she was short. But, he didn't. She felt her respect for him rising. As well as her urge to kiss him.

"Good then," Emma interupted their daze, immediately slipping in her seat. Stiles followed her, sitting in his. Before they could look back at eachother, Mr. Harris' voice interrupted them. He told the class that this was their last work period, and everything else had to be done on their own time. Their own time. Emma swallowed at the thought of spending time with Stiles- not in school for a change. She placed her chin on her hand, trying hard to conceal the smile she had on her face.


	9. So, Tonight?

**Stiles' POV**

"Okay, so then, you can discuss that portion?" Emma asked Stiles, grabbing a glustick and running it across the back of a photo she intended to paste on their project. They had been working on their project for the entire period.

"Sure," Stiles responded, raising the bristol-board and shaking it to remove all the scrap pieces scattered over it. Emma slammed the picture on an empty part of the board and dusted off her hands.

"It looks naked," she answered, displeased.

"Should we add words to it? Like, points?" Stiles suggested.

"That's a great idea," Emma answered, swinging the cover of her notebook to open it. "Let's write down key ideas, then."

Stiles looked up to see Mr. Harris running a piece of chalk over the blackboard, having written 'Presentation - Wed. Test - Fri.' As he continued to write the schedule for the other unfortunate classes that he tought, Stiles let out a irrated moan.

"If you don't want to do the points along the board, I don't mind," Emma said. Stiles figured she thought his clear displeasure was over their new idea.

"Oh, it's not that- I just forgot that we have that test," Stiles answered, uneasily rubbing his hand across the back of his neck, "I really need to do well on it. I think I forgot how to study, though."

Emma laughed, adding, "I can help you out. To study, if you want."

Stiles' momentarily lost his breath, "Yeah, thanks." The bell screeched, followed by an annoyed groan from Emma.

"We're definitely going to need to practice presenting this- and we need to add text to the board, seeing as this was our last work period" Emma muttered, tapping her fingers to her chin, "And we need to study."

"Great so, tonight?" Stiles mumbled, unsure if she interpreted his remark as a joke or not. He had been thinking of asking Emma to study with him. He really just wanted to ask her out, but he didn't want to risk the chance of rejection.

"Really?"

"Yeah, at my house- you can be there to make sure I don't get distracted," Stiles answered, avoiding eye contact as he collected all the scraps of paper into a pile between them.

"Sure, why not?" she happily said, to Stiles' relief. He looked up to meet her welcoming eyes.

"Okay, well, I think I remember where you live, so I can- I can pick you up. Five sound good?" he insisted. nearly forgetting he had practice after school. He felt like he was also forgetting how to speak.

**Emma's POV**

'Did he just ask me to hang out with him?' Emma doubted, 'No, this is just for school. He doesn't actually like me. I'm just his Bio. partner. That's all.'

"Sounds good," Emma responded as she placed all her books in her backpack. She rolled up the board and snapped an elastic band over it. "So, we'll do that then you can go back to all your dates this weekend," Emma teased as they walked out of the classroom, side-by-side. She was worried she was being too brash, but ensured herself that she wanted him to clue in that she saw him more than just a friend. Stiles was the only person, in a long time, she felt like she could truly connect to and she could only beat around the bush for so long.

"Oh yes, with the many girls interested in me," Stiles sarcastically remarked.

"Oh, shut up," Emma answered, lightly pushing his firm shoulder.

"What?"

"Are you kidding me? I don't believe that," Emma muttered, looking at him with a condesending expression.

"Believe what?" Stiles echoed, chuckling. His laugh was like pleasant music signalling all the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up.

"That you don't.. have girls chasing after you," Emma answered, her cheeks reddening as the two of them walked throw the crowded highschool hallway.

"Why not?"

"I don't know.." Emma sighed, regretting saying anything about his obviously pleasing appearance.

"In case you haven't noticed, Emma, I'm kind of a dork," Stiles answered, looking down at her as his lips thinned into a smirk.

"Oh, I've noticed," she replied, widening her eyes as she turned her head back to look forward.

"Takes one to know one," Stiles quickly teased back, slighty bending his body down in her direction. "Besides, how many dates have _you_ turned down since you moved here?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Stiles, I am a pretty awkward person,"she responded, mocking him. She felt a bit of sadness come to her once she realized they were reaching the fork in the hallway where they had to seperate.

"Oh, I've noticed. But you're.." Stiles' voice trailed down to silence.

"I'm..?" Emma asked, eager for him to finish his sentence.

"I'll see you at five, then," he exclaimed, slowing down. Emma watched as he slowly walked towards the corridor he intened to go into.

"Ok," Emma replied, debating whether or not to wish him a good practice. She decided against it and turned to the hallway her locker was in.

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles smiled as soon as he turned his back to Emma. What was she implying? 'She was probably just being nice,' Stiles told himself, 'It's obvious I have no game.'

"What are you smiling about?" Scott's voice came from Stiles' right.

"Life is just great," Stiles sighed, smiling up at the cieling.

"Stiles," Scott said, looking at him through squinting eyes.

"I'm hanging out with her tonight. Well, it's kind of a project-slash-studying thing, but-"

"You? Study?" Scott chuckled, holding his stomach.

"Well,_ she_ believed it. Dude, she's going to be at my house. Crap, I have to go clean it up before I pick her up. What if my dad talks to her?" Stiles worried, stumbling over his own words.

"Yeah, I don't think it's legal to call it food anymore," Scott laughed, "Imagine your dad cracking open the childhood photos- your seventh grade picture!" Scott went into a hysterical fit.

"I'm glad my concerns entertain you,"Stiles answered, hardly restraining a smile as he thought of his embarrasing childhood photos.

"Don't worry about it," Scott answered. He gave Stiles a friendly pat on his shoulder, "I'm sure she likes you. As long as she doesn't see the photos of your whole mullet-phase, you're home-free."

"It was not a mullet!" Stiles argued, for what seemed like the hundredth time. The two of them chuckled as they walked into the humid locker-room. They got prepared for another tedious practice.

**Emma's POV**

'What will I wear?' Emma asked herself as she turned the small knob on her lock, 'Should I even change? Maybe that blue shirt..'

"Hey, we still on for the mall tomorrow?"Emma looked over to see Allison on her side.

"Yeah, how does around two o'clock sound?"Emma nicely replied back, finally unlocking the lock.

"Great, I'm sure it's no problem for Lydia," Allison told her, raising an eyebrow, "So, doing anything tonight?"

"Studying," Emma muttered, trying to avoid telling her about Stiles. She was not ready to tell anyone about her little crush on him, in fear he'd find out, "You?"

"Family dinner," Allison sighed, clearly not too thrilled about her plans. "So, I'll text you to confirm for tomorrow. See you," Allison politely waved goodbye and departed.

Emma walked out of the school, glad she decided to walk to school that day. The weather was breezy and calming. Besides, it only took about 20 minutes to walk from school to home, or vice-versa.

Emma made her way down a winding pathway behind the school, glancing over to see the lacrosse-field far away. She smiled and placed her ear-buds in her ears, happily walking home.


	10. That is one Troublesome Bunny

_All of your reviews are awesome. :) Love all of you!_

**Emma's POV**

Emma walked through the front door to see her father, placing his coat over his back while looking at a newly-put up mirror on the light-brown wall.

She noticed the boxes that bombarded their front entrance were gone, presenting the clean, light hardwood floor. She saw many new additions to the house compared to how it looked when she left earlier that morning.

"It look okay? I was just hoping you could put some dishes away," Bruce asked, picking up a dark duffel bag, "I got to leave work early today, so I decided to unpack."

"Looks great, Dad," Emma said, kicking off her flats, "You leaving now?"

"Yeah," her father groaned.

"Tell Grandma I said hi," Emma chirped, hanging her backpack off the staircase banister and pecking her dad on the cheek. "Oh, Dad, do I have your permission to go to a friend's house tonight to work on a Biology project?"

"Oh," her father moaned, wearily. Emma wasn't too worried about not being able to go- she knew her dad was very easily persuaded by her.

"Please? Don't worry, Dad, you know I won't get in any trouble. Trust me."

"I know. It's not you I don't trust, it's-"

"Other people, yes, I know," Emma consoled. She was used to the whole routine.

"What's her name? Maybe I know her parents."

"Um, I'll be at Sheriff Stilinski's house," Emma mumbled, nervously biting on her lower lip.

"I only know of one child he has-"

"Yeah, Stiles- he's my lab partner," Emma told him, reluctantly. She felt strange hearing herself say his name so loudly.

"Oh," he simply stated.

"But you know his Dad, and you can call him if you really want to-"

"No need," her father smiled, still obviously a little unsure about Emma going to about what he just agreed to, "But my number is-"

"Saved on my phone, added to the home phone and on the fridge, just in case- I know," Emma interupted, watching as Bruce walked past her and began to slip on his shoes, "I'll take care of the house and Mitt." She pointed to the black and white cat, sitting by the edge of the wall.

"Love you, Em," her dad said, giving her a small smile.

"Love you, too," she replied, tightly gripping his shoulders, "Have a good weekend."

"You, too, kiddo," Bruce responded. He sighed as he opened the door. A wind rolled into the house, causing Emma's bronze hair to fly back behind her. Bruce jingled the keys in his hands as he clutched his duffle bag and shut the door. The house was filled with silence. Emma leaned against the shoe closet behind her, and crossed her arms as she looked at her cat. The tabby slowly walked through the hallway and up the stairs, already adjusted to the new house.

Emma walked over to the quaint living room and plopped down on the cream-coloured fabric sofa. She looked up at the big grandfather clock in the corner of room. 10 past 3. Stiles was to pick her up at 5.

She decided to go into the kitchen for a bowl of cereal, then put away the dishes her father asked her to, to get it out of the way. A whole weekend- this house to herself. She didn't know how she felt about it yet.

After cleaning up the kitchen, Emma made her way upstairs and into her room. She looked to see the massive pile of clothes on her bed that she had built up that morning. Emma shuffled around the clothing to find her cerulean-blue 3/4 sleeved shirt. She picked it out and held it against her body as she gazed in the mirror. The shirt went well with her dark-denim jeans.

After deciding to pair it with a necklace that had a small heart on the end of it and braiding her bangs to pull them back with a bobby pin, Emma was ready. 3:39.

Emma decided to re-fold all her clothes and put them in the closet. She then went on her laptop to browse the Internet, and before she knew it, it was 4:53. Emma quickly turned off her computer, chose a pair of grey sneakers and swung her backpack on.

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles made his way down the vacant street, thanking himself for remembering to bring cologne to use after practice. He glanced at his rear-view mirror, making sure there was nothing on his face. It was difficult for him to accept that he was driving to Emma's house. To pick her up.

He was thankful his father had no problem with him inviting a friend over to study. Although Stiles didn't exactly mention this friend was a girl. He laughed at the recent memory of Scott teasing him. Satisfied that he was able to stop at his house and clean up, Stiles swallowed nervously as he turned into Crusberry Drive. He slowed down his Jeep in front of Emma's white house, licking his lips nervously. He soon saw Emma swing open the door and turn to lock it. Stiles cleared his throat and fixed his posture. He turned down the radio presenting the weather forecast and smelled the air, beginning to worry he had some kind of moldy food in the back of the Jeep.

He looked back up to see Emma crossing the front of the vehicle. Stiles honked the loud horn, startling Emma. She looked at him, with a shocked smile on her face. He sucked his teeth and gave her a mischevious grin. Emma swung open the passenger door, with her hand on her hip.

"You want to fail this test, or..?"

"Sorry," Stiles shouted, in a sing-song voice, "I'll buy you curly fries." He nodded, giving a suggestive smile.

"Ok, but I'm only in for the curly fries," she answered, climbing into the Jeep. Stiles looked at her as she put on her seatbelt, admiring her humor.

"Ready?" he asked, his hands resting on the steering wheel and looking ahead to the street.

"No, could you wait for like 45 minutes?" Emma sarcastically said. Stiles looked over at her to see an radiant smile directed at him.

"Why? You have to go terrorize children, or whatever you do with your spare time?" Stiles teased, as he watched her tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"No, I only do that on Tuesdays," she answered, crossing her leg over the other. Stiles smiled at her, shaking his head as he began to put the car into a u-turn.

"So, how was practice?" Emma chirped, slapping her hand to her thigh.

"I want to say boring, but that's putting it lightly," Stiles responded, turning out of the street. Emma's tender laughter made him grin even wider. "No, it's good- I've always liked lacrosse," he said seriously.

"By the way, I was right- you are a good player," she told him, waving a finger in the air. Stiles licked his lips and blushed at the compliment.

"Thanks- obviously I'm so good, people have to smack me in the face out of their jealousy," he joked. Emma chuckled and nodded agreeingly.

"Ghosts of Detour?" she wondered, pointing to a disc-case on the dashboard.

"One of the best bands out there," Stiles announced

"Well, if they're the best, I don't know why I haven't heard of them," Emma remarked, looking over in his direction. "May I?" she asked, gesturing to inspect the CD case.

"Yeah," he cheered, admiring her politeness. She grabbed the disc off the dashboard and looked at the cover.

"Can we listen to them?" she asked, opening the case.

"I welcome it," he answered, eager she had an interest in his taste in music. The familiar first song began to play. Emma tapped her fingers against her knee. After a verse and the chorus, Emma spoke.

"Hey, this is great." Stiles nodded, relieved she approved.

"They're even better live," he told her, reminded of the concert he had gone to the previous summer.

"Oh, you went to their concert?" They approached a red-light. Stiles looked over to Emma's curious brown eyes.

"Yeah, it was awesome," he replied, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

"I feel so culturally deprived- I've actually never been to a concert!" Emma cried, "It's definitley something I want to do before I die. Along with hot-air ballooning." Stiles wanted to offer to go to a concert with her, but decided against it. 'You're on your way to study, it's not even a date', he thought to himself. He frowned at his thoughts.

"I want to get over 80 on a test before I die," Stiles responded, nodding his head. "That would be great."

"Well, you're on the right track," Emma sarcastically boasted, "With such an awesome study-buddy."

Stiles laughed and turned to see a green-light. He accelerated and glanced over at Emma.

"I'm sure," is all he could say before something jumped out in front the car. Stiles slammed on the breaks, the screeching of his tires against the asphalt blaring from outside. He involuntarily reached for Emma, snatching her wrist as the car came to a full stop. A small, terrified rabbit looked in both directions and hopped across to the other side of the road. "Holy crap," he breathed.

"That is one troublesome bunny," Emma remarked. Stiles nervously took his hand off her wrist, trying to avoid the fact that he did that, and began to drive the car down the road.

**Emma's POV**

Emma looked down at her wrist. She felt her heartbeat through her fingertips, thinking of how Stiles protectively grabbed her. She wanted his hand back on hers.

"Welcome to Beacon Hills," Stiles muttered. Emma chuckled, looking over at his profile for a hundredth time. She earnestly read his features. Perked, humble nose. Thick, dark eyelashes. Enchanting, pink lips. "Where did you move from?" he asked, his almost auburn eyes peeped to hers.

"A city called Roseburg in Oregon," Emma answered, glad he didn't notice she was staring at him again.

"Oregon," Stiles echoed, "Far. Did you like it there?"

Emma shrugged, smacking her lips. "Yeah," she mumbled, trying to think of another subject to bring up. "You've been living here your whole life?"

"Yup," he nodded, enunciating the 'p'. Stiles turned into a small street, slowing down. The car turned into a driveway, belonging to an ample red-bricked house.

"Is anyone home?"

"My dad's done work around 7, I think," he told her as he put the Jeep in park. It was evident his mother was not in the picture. She tamed her curiousity and didn't let herself ask about his mom.

She was at Stiles' house. Alone. The butterflies in her stomach went wild.


	11. Enjoy It

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles snatched his backpack from the backseat and slammed the car-door. Emma made her way from the other side of the Jeep. Stiles was nearly frozen, his heart beat stiffly in his chest. He licked his lips nervously as he led the way, walking up the pathway that led to the front door. He mechanically unlocked the door with shaky hands and swung open it open. He felt the heat press against his face as he stepped in.

"That is nice," Emma mumbled from behind him, closing the door. "I've been meaning to ask, what is with this weather here? It's scorching one day, then raining, then freezing.."

"I don't even know," he answered, "But it's cold most days." Stiles kicked off his sneakers and threw his backpack on the floor beside the shoes. Emma did so as well, however, she lightly placed her backpack on a nearby chair. Stiles stood, watching her as she neatly organized her shoes beside his. It was so strange to see such a beautiful girl. He met only a few days ago. In his own home. It was so surreal. "I need food to focus on homework. You want anything?"

She stood up, facing him, a few feet away. "Sure, if you don't mind," Emma sweetly replied, interlacing her fingers.

"Emma, you're too polite," Stiles snickered, turning to walk towards the kitchen.

"Too polite?" she repeated from behind him. They reached the kitchen. Stiles opened the refrigerator door, bending over and scanning the selection of food.

"Stiles!" Emma spat, "I want a drink! Now!" Stiles stood up straight, wide-eyed. He looked at Emma, who had a smirk on her face. "How was that? Still too polite?" Stiles chuckled.

"Much better," he answered, raising a thumbs-up. Emma laughed, her shoulders bouncing up and down. Stiles looked back to the fridge. He spotted a brown can of root beer and snatched it, tossing to Emma.

"You're the best," she exclaimed, "Thanks."

"You know, it doesn't take a lot to make you happy," Stiles muttered, eventually grabbing a frozen dinner from the freezer.

"As cliche as it is- life is short," Emma answered, leaning on the counter behind her, "Enjoy it." He smiled at her and turned to place his food in the microwave. Stiles turned back and leaned on the counter across from her. She contently sipped her drink. "Stiles?" He felt a numbness in his stomach just by hearing her say his name. All he could hear was the microwave running and his own heartbeat.

"Mhm?"

"What's your actual first name?" Stiles sighed, rolling his eyes and grinning.

"Stacy," he answered. Emma laughed and repeated her question. "You'll laugh," Stiles insecurely whined.

"I'm sure I will," she quickly replied, winking at him.

"You want some noodles? Or a cheese-string?" Stiles asked, walking over to the fridge again. As he opened the refrigerator door, Emma's hand blocked him and shut it.

"Don't change the subject," she giggled, closer to him. She looked down at her hand and quickly ripped it back to her body. "I'm sorry, that was so rude!" she exclaimed.

"So. Polite," Stiles muttered, laughing. Emma looked down at the soda can, biting her lip with a smile.

"A cheesestring sounds good," Emma mumbled, swinging her head back to look at him. Stiles nodded and opened the fridge door. He grabbed a cheesestring and handed it to her. "Thank yo- er, yeah, that's right!" she exclaimed, happily peeling off the plastic. Stiles laughed with her, for what seemed like the millionth time, and turned to the microwave when it beeped. He took out the spaghetti, peeled off the lid and grabbed a fork from a nearby drawer.

"Ok, so, I was thinking, we finish the board, practice presenting it a couple of times, then we can start studying," Emma suggested as she chewed on her snack.

"Woo-hoo," Stiles muttered, when in reality, he was quite happy to know that he was to spend the next few hours with Emma. The two of them stood silently in the kitchen.

"Are you really afraid of public speaking?" she curiously mumbled. Stiles slid the fork out of his mouth and squinted his eyes in thought.

"You sound surprised."

"I am," Emma exclaimed.

"Heights are a more irrational fear."

"Being afraid of falling to your death is irrational? What's so scary about saying a few words in front of a crowd?"

"All their eyes are on you. And heights? So what? If you fall, you die quickly- and get a fun ride on the way there."

"They're just people. And a fun ride? You could get a heart attack on your way down."

"Yeah, people that are judging you. And that's only if you're a wimp."

"No, they're not- the kids in our Bio. class don't even care about the presentations. And let me push you off a cliff to show you how fun that is."

"Still: one slip-up and it's over. No, thanks, I'd rather live. At least wait until I beat Walking Dead."

"That something else you want to do before you die?"

"Abso-toot-ely," Stiles replied, licking meatball sauce off of his fingers.

"That game is scary," Emma shivered, "Those zombies just pop out at you."

"That's what's so fun about it!" Stiles protested. Emma threw her head back in laughter and crumpled up the plastic from her snack.

"I'm worried about how our studying is going to go- we tend to trail off into an entirely different conversation," Emma muttered, opening the drawer under the sink and tossing her garbage in the bin.

"You're too much of a nerd to neglect your academic performance," Stiles teased, glad he knew he could make jokes at her expense without her actually gettig offended.

"Why does everyone assume I'm a nerd?" Emma asked the cieling, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Probably because you are, Miss. 'Above-Average marks'," Stiles answered, chuckling as he ate his food.

"I already told you, good study habits!"

"You're going to have to teach me those," Stiles mumbled as he chewed on the noodles. Emma grabbed her root-beer can from the counter and turned to face him again.

"Quit sassing me, Stilinksi," Emma muttered to him, crossing her arms. Stiles laughed and threw his fork into the sink, followed by the empty frozen-dinner package in the trash.

"To the dining room we go," he announced, successfully hiding his nervousness.

**Emma's POV**

Emma followed Stiles as he led her to a warm, welcoming dining room. She set her backpack on the darkwood tabletop and zipped it open. Emma secretly glanced up to see Stiles, struggling with the zipper on his school bag. She chuckled to herself and took out their project, along with a few writing utensils. She took out her notebook and sat at the head chair as Stiles settled in the chair diagonal to her, yet close to her side.

"Where did we leave off.." Emma mumbled, "Right- key ideas." Stiles sighed and rested his elbows on the table, looking at her with a blank stare. "Momentary brain fart?" Stiles lightly shook his head, clearing his throat.

"Have you ever heard of deep fried butter?" Stiles randomly asked. Emma looked at him with a smile on her face. "It's like butter- but fried."

"You don't say," Emma sarcastically replied, bringing the pencil to her lips.

"I'm sorry," Stiles groaned.

"Tell you what- we get this board finished and write out our presentation script, I'll give you 30 minutes to play that awful zombie game," Emma suggested, raising her eyebrows.

Stiles looked at her with an appreciative grin, "I like the way you think."

Within 45 minutes, they had come up with ideas, written them out and pasted them on the board. The two of them also managed to write out what each of them would say.

"Go wild," Emma assured, leaning back as she dropped the warm pencil she had been writing with. Stiles grinned and burst out of his seat. He looked at Emma impatiently as she stood up.

"Come on," he called, instantly placing his hand on hers and yanking her out of the room. Emma looked down at his hand over his as his back was turned and smiled. Her hand looked tiny compared to his. Stiles eagerly sped-walk into the living room and went over to the television. Emma couldn't help but distinguish his brick-red boxers peeping out from the top of his jeans. She bit her lip.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're an awesome project-partner?" Stiles asked as he watched the television respond to the buttons he pressed on the remote control he held. Emma blushed.

"It takes two to create a good presentation," she modestly replied, plopping down on the large, black sofa in front of the TV. Stiles quickly sat beside her, the side of his legs touching hers. Emma wondered if he did this purposely or thought nothing of it. Whatever the reasoning, she was glad he was so close to her. Stiles tossed a white controller onto Emma's lap as he navigated through the menu.

"What's this?"

"It's called a controller," he sarcastically responded. Emma sat back on the couch and snickered.

"But it's scary," Emma whined, "Even the music is scary." The ominous music filled with owls hooting and thunder cracking jangled through the televisions' speakers.

"I'll protect you," Stiles ensured, his back facing her. Emma stifled a smile and bent forward to be right next to him again.

"What are you doing?" Emma asked as she watching him rapidly open new folders and options.

"Making it two-player," he responded, his eyes glued to the screen. "So, we can be on a team." He finally looked over at her with glistening hazel eyes.

"You don't mind if your teammate crawls up in a corner as you kill zombies, do you?" she mumbled, leaning closer to him, subtly inhaling his scent.

"That's no problem," Stiles chirped under a chuckle. He opened a folder, reading 'Difficulty' and turned it up to 'Horror'.

"Horror?" Emma exclaimed, grabbing his firm shoulder. She was tempted to feel the muscles he hid so well under his striped shirt.

"Oh, look at that," Stiles said, clearly clicking 'Begin game', "Too late for me to change it." Emma chuckled and held her face in her hands, dropping the controller in her lap.

**Stiles' POV**

Emma's shoulder was pressed against Stiles' as the game loaded. He looked over at her to see her hands covering her face as the shuddersome music signalled the start of the game.

"Tell me when it ends," she muttered under a chuckle, creating a viel to cover the tv screen with her hands as she looked over at him. Stiles looked down at her alluring features.

"Chicken," he teased. Emma sat straight up, scoffing and snatching the controller from her lap.

"I'll show you chicken," she responded, bravely looking to the tv screen. "Wait- how do I move?" Stiles laughed and nervously put his hand over hers. They both watched as his forefinger went over hers to press the correct button.

"And, um, use the little joystick to go in different directions," he whispered, clearly not looking at the television screen anymore.

"Th-thanks," Emma answered. He realized just how close they were to eachother as he felt her breath on his cheek. He pulled his body back into his regular position and smirked before he turned his attention back to the video game. "And shooting?"

"Just press A," Stiles responded, secretly taking a deep breath. He watched as the two of them played the game. He scanned the virtual forest as their avatars ran around.

"Do they just pop out at you?" Emma asked with worry in her voice.

"Yeah, zombies like to do that," Stiles replied.

"How do y-" Suddenly, the gruesome face of a zombie appeared, carrying a chainsaw. Emma squealed and buried her head into Stiles' shoulder. Without thinking, he raised his arm to cradle her as she dug a spot into his chest. Stiles pressed the pause button on his controller and laughed at a distraught Emma. "How can you play that?" she shrieked over his laughter. He began to feel more nervous once it hit him- he had his arm around Emma. She chuckled as she looked up at him and nervously bit her lip- something she was famous for. 'Should I kiss her?' Stiles asked himself as her brown eyes searched his face. All they could hear was the reserved music coming from the television.

They heard a key turning the front door. Stiles quickly put his arm back to his side, mentally cursing his father. He saw Emma straighten her posture and push her hair out of her face. Stiles unpaused the game and continued to play, awaiting his father's entrance.


	12. I Think I Like it Better Here

_Seriously, all your reviews make me so happy! Thank you so much, I really hope you enjoy this chapter :D_

**Emma's POV**

"This is what you call studying?" Stiles snapped his head over to see his father, looking like a deer caught in headlights. The Sherriff glanced past Stiles to see Emma sitting next to him, looking a bit surprised. Did Stiles even tell his Dad someone was coming over? Emma immediatley felt like a bother to him.

"We were taking a break, I swear," Stiles announced.

"It's true," Emma answered, nervous but trying to appear confident. She stood up out of her seat and stepped Stiles towards his father, holding out a hand. "Hi, Mr. Stilinksi, I'm Emma. You _were_ expecting me, right?" she confirmed, shaking his hand and waringly looking in Stiles' direction.

"Oh, yes, I was aware someone was coming over," he answered, giving a firm handshake, "I didn't know that someone would be a girl."

"Dad!" Stiles nervously exclaimed from behind her. Emma stifled a giggle. She looked over at Stiles' blushing face.

"I'm sorry- I had no idea he even knew girls," the Sherriff told Emma, placing his hands on his hips.

"Dad," Stiles muttered. This time, Emma couldn't help but chuckle at the situation. She watched as Stiles hung his head, turning off the playstation.

"Um, I think you work with my father- Bruce?" Emma quickly said, attempting to take the attention off of Stiles.

"Bruce is your father," Mr. Stilinksi realized, "You do look related."

"Yes," Emma chuckled, "A lot of people tell us we have similiar features."

"Well, did you have any dinner? Or did my son eat all the food in the house again?"

"He does eat a lot," Emma teased, "Crazy metabolism." The Sheriff chuckled, nodding in Stiles' direction. "Thank you, I'm not hungry. I should get going soon," Emma told him, looking at her watch to see it was half-past seven. She did want to stay. Badly. But didn't want to be rude and just expect dinner from them.

"Nonsense, you'll have dinner with us tonight! We can't let you go with an empty stomach- and to an empty house, at that," Stiles' father protested, looking at the two of them through his blue eyes.

"Thank you, but, really, it-" Emma said, seeing Stiles walk up to stand beside her.

"Come on, Emma- we're ordering pizza," Stiles told them, "Dad, you've probably had such a long day at work, not in the mood to fix anything up." Emma smiled at Stiles' coy expression. His father sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Fine," the Sheriff agreed, "I'll call." Stiles grinned, proud of himself.

"We're going to go upstairs," Stiles said as he shuffled to the dining room and collected his and Emma's things, "Call us when it's ready?" Emma obliviously followed Stiles as he climbed up the stairs.

"Um- thanks!" she called back to Stiles' father who was left standing in the hallway. Emma trailed Stiles as he reached the top of the staircase and turned into his bedroom. She studied the room, noticing band posters. "Cool room," she piped as he put their bags beside his bed.

"You think so?" Stiles chuckled, looking around the room with her. Emma walked closer to him to grab the project off the floor.

"Ok, so you want to practice?" Emma asked him as her eyes pleasingly searched the board.

"Sure," Stiles said with enthusiasm. His positivity gave her a smile. She set the board on his desk and stood beside it, motioning her head for him to stand on the other side. He quickly did so.

"Hi, class, what you're about to see is another torturous presentation about something you don't care about- however, to make it a little less painful, we have something pretty for you to look at while we read off these papers," Stiles said, in a loud voice as he pointed to the board. Emma couldn't help but laugh as she playfully hit his shoulder.

"I don't think that will get us the mark we want," Emma chuckled Stiles habitually licked his lips and began to read the words written out for him.

After a few run-throughs, Emma sighed, relieved. "I think we're good," she exclaimed. She turned the board over, grabbed a pencil, bent down to the desk and began to write Stiles' and her name on it. As she scribbled her name, Stiles nudged her arm, causing the pencil to skid.

"Revenge is sweet," Stiles muttered, nodding his head happily. Emma turned her head to find him leaning towards her, her face only a few inches away from his. She glanced down at his lips, the lips she had been thinking of for so long.

**Stiles' POV**

"An eye for an eye?" Emma joked, standing up, placing her hands on her hips, "I thought you were better than that, Stiles." Stiles stood back up and placed his hands in his pockets, trying not to smile at the sound of her voice saying his name.

"I'm just avenging that piece of paper you made me defile," he answered, looking down at her smiling face.

"I love how you made me mess up on my name, too," she said, through laughter as she looked at the board. She quickly finished writing her name and rolled up the board. "We're done!" she exclaimed, swinging her hand up in the air. Stiles gave her a high-five, as she silently requested, and laughed.

They were quick to get out all of their books from their backpacks. Emma sat on the floor, leaning against Stiles' bed as he sat cross-legged across from her.

"Do you miss your old house?" Stiles curiously asked as Emma shuffled through her pencil-case.

"Yeah but I, I think I like it better here," she told him with a fragile smile.

"Why?"

Emma hesitated, looking like she really wanted to say something but her mind wasn't letting her. "It's just nicer," she told him, her eyes shifting down to her textbook. Stiles could tell this was not something she wanted to talk about. As they sat in silence, it hit Stiles that Emma was going to be spending dinner with him and his father. He nervously shifted and licked his lips.

**Emma's POV**

After only a few minutes of reviewing vocabulary words from the textbook, the Sheriff called for them.

"Yes!" Stiles exclaimed, throwing his books to his side. Emma laughed as she slowly stood up, following him as he skipped out of his room and downstairs, into the dining room. The smell of pizza filled Emma's nostrils.

The three of them scarfed down the pizza, having a small conversation in between. The phone interupted Stiles' father in the middle of a thought. He jumped out of his seat and came into the kitchen, clearly frustrated.

"I've got to go," his father muttered closing an empty pizza box.

"What?" Stiles asked, his mouth of of food.

"I've been called in- I'll probably be home late," the Sherriff explained, wiping his hands with a papertowel after tossing the garbage in the kitchen, "Emma, it was nice to meet you."

"You, too," Emma called as he bolted out of the dining room. They soon heard the front door slam shut, leaving Emma and Stiles sitting alone at the table. "Does that happen often?"

"Since these attacks lately, yeah."

"I've been trying to get my dad to spill something on it- but he never does," Emma told him, chugging back the last of her soda.

"You know, I.." Stiles began to tell her about the police walkie-talkie he had, but decided she'd rather see it for herself. He finished his sentence on a different idea, "My dad's the same. Something about ethics?" Emma laughed.

"Do you know anything about this case they're working on?"

Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat. Of course he knew about all the 'animal attacks'. He felt like telling her. He knew she could be trusted. But the risk of it slipping out and the consequence of certain people being angry with him stopped him.

"Not sure," he muttered, finishing up the crust on his pizza slice.

**Emma's POV**

Emma sat back in her chair and patted her stomach. "Well, thanks for having me over and for the dinner," Emma remarked, picking up her plate and placing all her napkins on it.

"You're not leaving, are you?" Stiles asked, a tremble in his voice. Emma's heart began to race as she looked over to Stiles' concerned face.

"I wouldn't want to be overstaying my welcome- I mean, I already stayed for din-" she mumbled, hoping her statement would get argued.

"Emma," Stiles muttered with a serious expression, "You know you want to stay here. It's awesome here."

"Tempting," she teased, laughing. She stood out of her seat, looking at Stiles as he cleaned up his dishes and told herself to refuse playing hard-to-get any longer.

"No, seriously- you would just be spending your Friday night at home, right?" Stiles insisted, licking his lips nervously, "Unless you have a date or something." Emma's heart warmed to hear him so insistant on her staying.

"Okay," she enthusiastically remarked, "And quit teasing me on my total lack of attracting mates." She laughed as she turned to walk towards the kitchen, nervously chewing on her bottom lip again. She would be spending Friday night with Stiles. Alone. Emma felt the butterflies in her stomach fluttering.


	13. You're Just Different

_Your reviews are lovely :) Thank you, each and every one of you!_

**Stiles' POV**

As Stiles and Emma cleaned up the last of the dishes on the dinner table, they decided they would go to the living room to continue playing Stiles' video game.

"You deserve a break for all the work you did on the presentation," Stiles happily said as the two of them walked towards the living room.

"I think you mean all the work _we_ did," Emma nodded, giving him a radiant smile. He went straight for the playstation to set another game up as Emma plopped down on the sofa. "You're interesting," Emma remarked. Stiles turned to see her cross-legged on the couch, looking at him.

"Interesting?" Stiles echoed, grabbing the game-controllers from under the television, "In a good way or a bad way?"

"Good way," she chirped as he walked towards her and tossed the controller to her, "You're just different."

"Different how?" he dipped his head in curiousity. He plopped down beside her, his arm grazing her knee, and looked back at her brown eyes.

"You don't give a crap what other people think of you," she responded, nodding her head. He wondered where all this was coming from.

"I definitely care about what you think of me," Stiles muttered, under a nervous chuckle. 'Did you really just say that?' he cursed himself.

"Well, for your information, I think very highly of you," she said with an adorable giggle.

"Thanks," Stiles replied as an uncontrollable smile formed on his face, "Likewise." Emma smiled at him as they heard her cellphone go off. She reached into her pocket, read a message and began to type back.

"Just Allison confirming our trip to the mall tomorrow," Emma informed him as he watched her. "What?" she chuckled, noticing him looking at her.

"Nothing," Stiles embarrasingly shook his head, turning to set up the game.

After about an hour of playing the videogame, which was filled with Emma's shrieking and Stiles' laughter, Stiles suggested they watch some television. As he surfed through the channels, Emma began to speak.

"How's your relationship with your dad?" Stiles snapped his head to look in her direction. Her curious eyes studied his face, awaiting a reply. Stiles placed the remote control beside him, leaving the television to display a random car-dealership commercial and rotated his body to face her.

"You just.. jump right in, don't you?" Stiles teased, chuckling. Emma shrugged, pursing her rose-coloured lips.

"Yes, I've been told that I can be way too forward sometimes," Emma responded, biting her lip and glancing down, "I'm not sure if that's a quality or a flaw."

"It's definitely a quality," Stiles quickly replied, resting his elbow on the sofa and kneeling his head on his knuckles. "It means you don't waste your time."

"Sorry," she whispered after a few seconds of silence, "You don't need to answer that, by the way."

"No," Stiles interupted, "But, you'll have to answer a personal question yourself." Emma smiled, accepting the challenge. He loved how he sensed comfort with her- like he could tell her anything and she wouldn't ever judge him. Along with the comfort, however, there was also nervousness he couldn't escape. "My dad and I- we get along pretty fine. We're not really as close as we used to be.." Memories came flooding back to Stiles, but he told himself to regain composure. "But, we kind of keep eachother sane in a way."

**Emma's POV**

Emma nodded her head, intently listening to the words coming out of Stiles' mouth. She could tell he wasn't used to talking too much about himself. Stiles licked his lips between pauses, a habit he had that she had grown to love.

"He puts up with my crap- and I really respect him for that," Stiles answered, smiling.

"What kind of crap does he put up with?" Emma asked, eager to hear more.

"Let's just say.. I'm not too dedicated with my academics and I may constantly nag him to tell me more about whatever case he's working on at the time," Stiles replied with an ashamed expression.

"You know, you don't give yourself enough credit," Emma told him, wagging a finger in the air, "I'm sure you had better things to do with your Friday night, but instead you spent it finishing up some boring presentation. Plus, you're awesome at lacrosse and you don't know it. And I can just tell you're a really good friend to Scott. You're really modest- that's rare." Emma bit her lip, as if to block any more words that wanted to come out. All the things she thought of Stiles, he knew now. Except for the fact that she had a nearly insane crush on him. She stopped herself from saying anything about her feelings towards him- she was sure he didn't feel the same way; he was just a nice guy that saw her as a friend. However, there was something about Stiles that made her want to tell him everything she thought and felt- like he would genuinely listen.

"Well," Stiles stuttered, his cheeks turning a crimson red, "I am awesome." Emma chuckled, playfully nudging his shoulder back with her hand. He laughed, showing a pearly smile that she yearned to see more of. It was clear he never really got a lot of recognition. She was glad to be the one to tell him how great he really was. Emma noticed he was tired by the fatigue in his voice- which, for whatever reason, made her even more attracted to him.

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles stumbled over his own thoughts, his heart felt like it was fluttering. He wondered what he could possibly ask Emma. He was curious about how her life was in her old town, so he finally mustered up the courage to have her speak about it again.

"Why do you like it better here?" he asked. Emma immediatley looked down, constantly turning the ring she had on her finger. Stiles studied her expression- her long eyelashes fluttered with every blink and her lips turned into a smirk.

"The people, I guess," Emma answered, shrugging.

"Were the people back there pricks or something?" Emma's angelic laughter filled his ears.

"No," she replied, "I also really like the scenery here. The woods are beautiful." Stiles held back the urge to tell her she was beautiful.

"I can show you them, if you want," Stiles suggested, a little less scared of being brash.

"Really?" Emma beamed. It really didn't seem like it took a lot to impress her. Stiles nodded, snickering. "Thanks," she said, "You got some promises to live up to. The curly fries, now a tour of Beacon Hills scenery..." Stiles chuckled, running his hand down his head to his neck. "Hey, I love this show," Emma exclaimed. Stiles looked at the television to see the familiar theme of a funny t.v. show being presented on the screen.

"No way, me too!" he replied. They turned to face the television, both clearly excited. As they watched the television screen, Stiles wondered if Emma's heart was beating as fast as his was. There she was, sitting only a few inches away from him. Stiles focused on how his chest rose and lowered with every breath he took.

As the show went on, Stiles felt his eyelids becoming very heavy. He crossed his arms on his chest and yawned. He suddenly felt a weight on his shoulder. He looked to his side, to see Emma's head resting on his shoulder. Her deep breaths signified she had dozed off. Stiles smiled to himself, unable to wake her up. She looked so peaceful. He reached for the remote, turned off the television and slowly fell asleep.


	14. Does it get Easier?

_:) Thanks for the reviews- it makes me so happy that you guys are enjoying the story!_

**Emma's POV**

Emma's eyelids fluttered open as she stayed in a phase of confusion. Her face was pressed up against something. She raised her head to find she was sleeping on Stiles' chest. She smiled to see him in a deep sleep, lightly snoring. Emma turned to realize his arm was cradeling her body. She smiled, tempted to nuzzle up against him again, but fought against the urge. She rubbed her knuckle against her eye. Emma slowly stretched her legs out to feel her feet on the fridgid hardwood floor and stood up, hoping to find a washroom or at least a mirror.

"After everything I give you, you sneak out? Have you any respect?" Emma turned to see Stiles scratching the back of his head with an adorable half-smile on his face.

"Where's your washroom?" Emma asked in a hushed tone, worried she'd wake his father up. Embarrassment rushed through her body at the thought of Stiles' father seeing them asleep together.

"Upstairs- second door to the right," he answered, pointing to the staircase. Emma nodded and slowly went up the stairs. She found the washroom, to discover her swollen eyes and pale complexion. Groaning, Emma splashed cold water on her face. To her relief, she found some mouthwash under the sink and used it. Emma smoothed back her tousled caramel bangs and clipped them back. She slowly opened the door and saw Stiles walking out of his bedroom with a new plaid shirt.

"Sorry for passing out," Emma mumbled as they met eachother at the top of the staircase.

"It's no problem," Stiles laughed, shaking his hands dismissively. "I'll be right down," he told her. Stiles went into the washroom. Emma quickly grabbed her things from Stiles' room and hopped down the stairs. She slipped on her shoes and waited at the door. Stiles soon came downstairs with a smile on his face.

"Breakfast?" he chirped, grabbing his sneakers.

"Only if it's on me," Emma replied, happy that he still wanted to spend time with her. Stiles groaned and agreed. "What about your dad?"

"He most likely came home really late.. probably didn't even see us in the living room," Stiles explained. Emma blushed as the thought about the fact that they fell asleep on eachother. "And I left a note." Emma smiled at his courtesy.

The two of them walked out of the house and got into Stiles' jeep. After buckling in, he sped down the road and pulled into the parking lot of a small restaurant. They went in, sat at a table beside a large window and waited for their waitress.

"What time are you going to the mall?"

"Around two," Emma answered, flattered that he remembered. She looked at her watch to see it was only quarter after 10. "You know, you snore," Emma teased.

"Well, if I'm not mistaken, you talk in your sleep," Stiles replied, his cheeks turning pink.

"Oh God, what did I say?" Emma asked. She brought her hands up to her hot cheeks.

"Nothing understandable," he answered, chuckling. The waitress came by soon after, taking their order of two waffles.

"And a side of curly fries, please," Stiles chirped, handing the waitress the menus.

"Curly fries for breakfast. I like the way you think," Emma told him. After an enjoyable breakfast, the waitress thanked them and placed the bill on the table. As soon as Emma spotted it, she slammed her hand on top of it, followed by Stiles, whose hand was resting on hers. "We had a deal, Stiles," Emma chuckled, looking at him as their hands remained touching. Stiles snickered and slid his hand off of hers.

"Thank you," Stiles mumbled, looking at his watch, "Come on."

"Where are we going?" she asked, getting up from her seat.

"You'll see," Stiles sang. He opened the door for her once again, grinning at her. "M'lady."

"Why, thank you, good sir," Emma said, fanning herself as she walked through the door. Stiles chuckled. They made their way to his Jeep and Stiles began to drive down the road.

The car was pulled to the side of the empty street. Trees surrounded the pavement. Stiles smiled at Emma as he opened his door and got out of the Jeep. She did the same and shuffled over to his side of the car.

"Let's go," he exclaimed.

The two of them walked through the amber orange and copper brown forest. The singing of small birds was heard through the sound of the light wind blowing through the branches of each tree. With every step they took, the comforting sound of crunching leaves filled their ears.

"That's a nice bracelet," Stiles mumbled, breaking the silence between them. Emma smiled, bringing her wrist up to examine the bracelet herself. It was silver with small, red heart charms dangling off of it.

"Thank you," she replied, "It was my mom's." There it was. After promising herself she wouldn't bring up her mother, or any of her past for that matter, with a simple sentence, she broke the promise to herself. She didn't understand what it was about Stiles that made her feel like she could say anything without being judged. She didn't have a filter when she was with him.

"Was?" he echoed with a small break in his voice.

"Mhm," Emma mumbled, "Before she.." She felt a cold tear build up in her right eye. Emma looked up to the woods ahead of them, fixing a smile on her face to get rid of the sensation to cry. She breathed in the brisk autumn air and started to chew her lip.

"My mom's not around either," Stiles told her, putting his left hand in his pocket. Emma knew that. But she told herself not to ask about his mother. At least she kept one promise to herself.

She looked up at him to see his glazed hazel eyes looking down as he made each footstep. "It happened a few years ago," he explained, lightly clearing his throat, "She was so sick."

Without thinking, Emma reached out her hand and made contact with his. His warm hand welcomed the gesture, interlacing his fingers with her. She could feel light calluses beneath his fingers that he got from all the lacrosse practice. She heard her heartbeat thumping through her ears as he slowly breathed.

**Stiles' POV**

'Why is she holding my hand?', Stiles asked himself. 'Does she just feel sorry for me? Am I just a friend to her? God, I just want to kiss her.'

"I'm sorry," Emma's voice broke his thoughts. It was a bit raspy, yet comforting. Stiles couldn't believe he was saying these things. It was the first time in a long time he actually let someone in. He had always hid behind the happy personality he created for himself, but now, he was letting that side of him out- the side no one else saw since his mother passed. Not even him.

"Me, too," Stiles immediatley said back, feeling a lump in his throat. He bravely looked over at her to see her, biting on her lip yet again.

"My mom- she.." Emma began to explain, "It was a car accident. With my sister." Her sweet voice began to crack as she tightened her grip on his hand. "My dad jumped at the chance to move. I wanted to leave that all behind. I hated all those looks I got back home. Everyone pitied me."

"They'd look at me like I was so damaged," Stiles shared, "Like they expected me to just breakdown after it happened." He felt a small tear build up in his eye and pretended to brush his hand through his hair, when really, he wiped his eye clean.

His hand felt like it fit perfectly in hers. Her soft, warm skin was as comforting as her sweet voice. He felt the cold charm heart lightly swinging off of her wrist.

"How long was she sick for?" Emma's innocent question brought painful memories back to him.

"A few months," Stiles told her, "I thought I prepared myself for it. But you can never be ready for that."

"Does it get easier?" she asked him. She sniffed, clearly given up trying to hold back her tears anymore. Without thought, Stiles stopped in his tracks, holding his arm stiff. Emma lightly swung back and was found facing him. Their hands stayed cradeling eachothers.

"Yes," he whispered, looking down at her glossy, chestnut eyes. He brought his hand up to her pale face, wiping a tear away from her soft cheek. Their hands seperated as Emma enveloped her arms around his torso, tightly holding him. Stiles strong arms gripped around Emma's shoulders. Her soft breath tickled his neck as he rested his chin on top of her head, inhaling the sweet vanilla scent her hair gave off.

As their bodies slowly seperated from the hug, Emma's head tilted up to look at Stiles. His eyes studied her face as they stood frozen, faces only a few inches away from eachother. Stiles looked down at Emma's lips and imagined how they would taste. Her eyes looked at him, as if they were begging for him to kiss her.

Stiles dipped his head down as they tilted towards eachother in unison. He slowly closed his eyes. Their lips met, causing the butterflies in his stomach to go frantic.

E**mma's POV**

Her first kiss. As Stiles brought his hand up to cradle her neck, Emma felt goosebumps form on her arms. His soft lips felt better against hers than she imagined. The lips she watched so many times. Emma always lustfully stared at them when he would lick his lips. By now, she didn't even care how she looked- her eyes were probably reddened from the tears. She didn't care about anything else at that moment. Just him.

As their lips disjointed, Emma's eyelids fluttered open. She looked up into Stiles' eyes, noticing small gold speckles in the sea of auburn. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so safe.

They looked at eachother, speechless.


	15. Buckle Up

_Seriously- your reviews make me so happy :) I'm so, so glad that you like the story!_

**Stiles' POV**

"Well, that took long enough," Emma muttered, her arms still hooked around Stiles' torso.

"It was worth the wait," he replied. Emma looked at him with her affectionate brown eyes. The smile on her face decieved the tears disappearing in her eyes.

"I like you," Emma remarked, tilting her head to the side.

"I like you, too," Stiles replied, chuckling. He licked his lips nervously, urging to kiss her again. Emma smiled at him, slowly stepping back, without breaking eye contact. She turned to continue walking forward and Stiles did the same.

As they walked through the woods in a comfortable silence, Stiles jumped when he saw something drop in front of him. Emma looked to his direction and started laughing loudly.

"That was close!" she chuckled. Stiles looked down to realise he had just missed a bird dropping.

"Well, isn't that just lovely," he muttered, stepping over it and snickering. Emma continued to laugh as they walked down the trail. "I love your laugh," Stiles said, his words feeling like they were falling out of his mouth. He felt his face flush at his abruptness.

"Well, you make me laugh," she replied. He looked over to see her sympathetic smile. Stiles directly felt a heavy drop of water tap his fore-arm. The sound of cracking thunder shook through the trees. Stiles looked back at Emma, who was wonderously gazing at the forest canopy.

"Come on!" Stiles called through laughter, snatching her hand in his and turning to run. Emma followed him, laughing as thick raindrops hit them. They made it back to Stiles' blue Jeep and quickly took shelter in it.

"Isn't it just great getting caught in the rain?" Emma exclaimed, pushing her wet hair out of her face. Stiles sat back in his seat, shuffling in his newly soaked clothes. "Oh, crap," she muttered. Stiles looked to see her staring at her watch. "It's almost two already?"

"Buckle up," Stiles said, starting the car. He turned on the windshield wipers and began to drive.

"Thanks for the scenic tour," Emma said to him, resting her head on her hand as she looked out the window. Stiles grinned as he drove, unable to accept the events of the past few minutes. He couldn't believe that she could possibly feel for him the way he felt for her. He wondered if she kissed him out of pity- he doubted the possibility of her truly feeling that way towards him. Stiles sighed, unpatiently tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as he looked at the thunderstorm pouring ahead of them. "You know- we could meet at the mall. You could bring Scott or something.. so all of us could hang out." Stiles felt an uncontrollable grin grow on his face- happy she still wanted to be with him.

"Yeah," Stiles quickly replied, a bit embarrased at his over-enthusiasm. Another comfortable silence sat between them as they listened to another slow song whispering from the radio.

**Emma's POV**

"Well, thanks for everything," Emma told him as his car stalled in front of Emma's house.

"Don't thank me- if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have finished that project at all.. or studied for that matter," he sheepishly replied. She looked at Stiles, tempted to kiss him again.

"I'm sure you would have," Emma quickly returned, "Like I said- so modest." They stared at eachother in silence. He reached his arm out towards her, and removed a strand of dark-blonde hair that was plastered on her forehead from the rain.

"Thanks," she whispered, the words barely escaping her lips. She met his hazel eyes with hers and swallowed the lump in her throat. She pressed the button to release her from her seatbelt, but it refused to be pushed down. "I'm trapped!" she exclaimed, laughing. Stiles reached towards her, skillfully pressing down the button, causing the seatbelt to slide open. He looked at Emma to see her smiling at him. Her lips planted a kiss on his warm cheek. Without another word, she snatched her backpack from her feet, exited the car and made her way to her house.

After closing the door, Emma leaned against it and smiled. She was thankful her dad was away for the weekend- how would've she explained falling asleep at Stiles'? Or would she had stayed the night at all? Would they have even kissed? Emma felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. For the first time, she talked about her mother to someone who wasn't a counselor. To someone who knew what she was feeling.

Emma fed her cat, called her dad to let him know she was ok, and took a quick shower. She got ready, deciding on tights with a navy blue polka-dotted dress and lett her hair fall naturally to her shoulders.

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles continued to drive to his home, holding his cheek where Emma had just kissed him. He kept constantly licking his lips as his stomach numbed at the thought of Emma. He wondered what this meant for them.

Stiles reached his silent house to find his father had left for work. He checked his phone, to see a message from Scott, proposing they hang out. Stiles replied to the text, saying they should go to the mall. He went upstairs to find something else to wear. He gazed at his closet, full of turned-over clothing. He finally decided on another blue-plaid buttoned shirt and dark denim jeans. Stiles checked his phone to see that Scott agreed to the idea, and before he knew it, Stiles was waiting in front of Scott's house.

Scott approached the Jeep with a smile on his face, obviously eager to hear how Stiles' evening with Emma went.

"And?" Scott muttered after he sat and shut the cardoor closed.

"And what?" Stiles inconspicously asked, slowly driving off of Scott's street.

"What happened?" Scott's hoarse voice curiously questioned.

"With what?"

"Stiles," Scott seriously muttered. Stiles could see Scott staring at him with an annoyed expression from the corner of his eye.

"We kind of- kissed, a little bit," Stiles shrugged his shoulders, beaming.

"Who made the first move?" Scott eagerly asked, shoving Stiles' arm.

"I don't know," Stiles answered, blushing to the recollection, "She was the one that held my hand."

"Thank God for that," Scott chuckled, "If she didn't make the first move, you two would've never became an item."

"An item? You think we could be official?" Stiles nervously stumbled over his words.

"Wow," Scott exclaimed, "You really like her." Stiles could only sigh at Scott's comment. It was clear to Stiles that he _was_ more nervous than usual.

"My dad made sure to embarrass me, though." Scott laughed, waiting to hear the story. "He made sure to let Emma know what a charmer I am with the ladies. Oh, aaand.. we might be going to the mall because Emma is there."

"I knew it! Allison texted me that she was at the mall," Scott half-shouted, holding out his cellphone.

"What can I say?," Stiles muttered with a smirk, "Evil genius."

**Emma's POV**

"So, Emma, you like any boys?" Allison asked, slipping the spoon out of her mouth. The three girls were sitting in the mall food court after about half an hour of shopping, eating frozen yogurt.

"I don't know," Emma shrugged, her stomach numbing at the thought of Stiles. "By the way, how are things with Scott?"

"Really good," Allison chirped, "I think he's actually coming here." Allison's voice trailed off to silence as she played around with her cellphone.

"You should go out with Stiles," Lydia suggested. Emma looked over at Lydia raising her eyebrows.

"That's what I was thinking," Allison cut in, pointing at Lydia.

"Two dorks in love," Lydia laughed.

"Lydia!" Allison exclaimed. Emma laughed- she was used to Lydia's comments by now and slightly amused by them.

"Hmm," Emma hummed, slightly nodding and looking down at her frozen yogurt.

"So- do you like him?" Lydia impatiently asked. Emma looked the pink yogurt in the cup that sat before her, wondering about Lydia's intentions. 'Does she like Stiles? Did he tell her he likes me?' Emma asked herself, 'Is she just trying to get some juicy gossip?'

"Um," Emma hummed, replacing the spoon she was biting on with her lip. She uneasily gazed down at her snack.

"Hey," a familiar voice came to Emma's relief. She saw Scott standing at the end of the table, and behind him- Stiles. Emma's heart pounded against her ribs at the very sight of him. "What are we talking about?"

"Boys," Lydia as-a-matter-of-factly replied. Emma couldn't help but look Stiles up and down, admiring how good his turquoise-blue shirt looked on him. She quickly looked to Scott, who was looking at her with a coy expression, clearly aware of her checking him out. She wondered if Stiles had told him about everything. The beeping of Lydia's phone interrupted the next person to speak. "Oh, my gosh!" she exclaimed, "I totally forgot- I have an manicure appointment at 3:45." Emma was slightly relieved to hear that Lydia had to leave- less chance for embarrassment. Lydia snatched the multiple bags of new things she bought from under the table.

"Go to Sally's- they do the best filing job," Stiles remarked. Emma snickered at Stiles as he looked at her with a goofy smile.

Lydia glared at him, clearly not amused. "Nice shopping with you girls," Lydia sang as her heels clicked with every footstep. Scott slid in the seat beside Allison and Stiles replaced Lydia. Emma turned her head to see Stiles, habitually licking his lips. She looked back at Scott and Allison who were already whispering about something.

"Are they always like this?" Emma teased, "All lovey-dovey."

"Pretty much," Stiles muttered, nodding. He chuckled, exposing his charming smile.

"Hey, Emma, do you like mini-golf?" Allison boomed. Emma smiled at the couple, cluing in that they planned that.

"Do I ever," Emma exclaimed, smiling at them as she reclined in her seat.

"Let's do it, then," Allison sweetly suggested, looking at the group. Emma chuckled, glad that she had made such nice new friends.


	16. With a Girl?

_Do I even need to say it? Yes, I do. Thanks for the reviews, they're awesome. Love you all._

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles gripped the mini-golfclub and worringly hit the small ball. He really wanted to impress Emma. He watched it speed past the hole it was intended to drop in and hit the board behind it.

"Stiles- this is mini-golf," Emma's soothing voice sarcastically teased. Stiles turned to see Emma looking at him with a smirk on her face and a hand on her hip.

"Okay, it's Emma's turn," Allison enthusiastically announced. Stiles chuckled and tossed his club in the air then snatched it back again. Emma put her small blue golf-ball where it was to be placed and bent down, stalling as if she was very focused on the game. Stiles couldn't help but look at Emma up and down as she got ready. She swung, causing the ball to fly past Stiles'. It dropped behind a bush, followed by the clear sound indicating that the ball had fallen in the small pond located at the center of the course.

"Emma- this is mini-golf," Stiles mocked. Emma chuckled, looking over at him as everyone laughed. Stiles loved how he could tease her and she never seemed to be offended.

"I think I'm going to have to pay for that," she chuckled, embarrassingly grasping her cheek, "Unless I can get it." Allison continued to laugh as Emma went over to the lake and bent down. Not too much later, Emma came back, proudly holding the small ball in her hand. "Shallow pond." As she tried the set again, Stiles thought of their kiss. He could feel the blood rush to his face as he played the incident back in his head.

"Full moon is next week," Scott interrupted his thoughts. Stiles looked at his friend with a loyal expression.

"Scott, it's your turn," Allison announced. As Scott walked towards his position, Emma took his place beside Stiles. Stiles shyly looked down at her as she gripped the club. She looked up at him, smiling.

"Hi," she mumbled. Even her voice got his heart pumping.

"Hi."

"How ya doing?" Emma sang. Stiles had the urge to just grab her and kiss her, but instead, replied to her.

"Great. Had a really good Friday night.. and Saturday morning," he answered nervously. Emma looked at him with a raised eyebrow, her plump lips refusing to break out of her sweet smile.

"Oh. With a girl?"

"Yeah, a really great girl," Stiles replied, realizing Scott and Allison were too busy in their own conversation, looking at their score cards. "Except for the fact that she made me study."

Emma laughed, "Did you stop to think that maybe she did it for your own good?"

"No," Stiles replied. Emma's intoxicating chortling filled his ears. "How about your weekend so far?"

"Oh, fantastic," Emma responded, "_I_ was actually with a guy. A really.. great guy. And I scored some pizza along the way."

"Good pizza?" Stiles asked. His cheeks flushed at the compliment she gave him, thinking back to their time spent together.

"Awesome pizza," Emma teased, nodding her head. "Hopefully I can spend some more time with him. Maybe he could show me the woods of Beacon Hills some more."

"Well, I- I really want to hang out more with that girl," Stiles replied, too shaky to come up with a witty reply.

"Stiles," Emma said, seriously. Her pensive gaze at him signified her trying to begin a no-nonsense conversation. "I just wanted to know. Do we-"

"That's the game!" Scott called. Stiles looked over at Emma, irrated that she was interrupted. He sighed and left with the group.

**Emma's POV**

After a very fun and enjoyable game, the four teenagers walked out of the course and towards the parking lot.

"Allison, you never told me you were so good at mini-golf," Scott flirted, putting his hand around her waist.

"I don't like to brag," she replied, cocking her head to the side. "Emma, how is it having the house to yourself?"

"Oh, you know- having house parties every night and just being the rebel that I am," Emma mocked as they stode on the sidewalk. As she swung her arms, Emma's hand grazed Stiles', making her jerk her head to look at him smiling down at her.

"Emma, could you give me a ride home?" Allison interupted. Emma agreed.

"Bye, guys," Emma mumbled, giving them a light wave once they reached her maroon-coloured car. She looked up at Stiles who was giving her a timid half-smile. Emma glanced at him one last time and turned to leave. After a short drive filled with conversation on job opportunities in the area, Emma found Allison's home.

"Thanks for the ride!" Allison exclaimed with a bright smile.

"No problem," Emma responded, "Thanks for the invite for the mall.. and the mini-golf; I had a blast."

"I'm glad," Allison nodded. She grabbed her purse and shopping bag, carrying a pair of new shoes, and went home. Emma drove back home, very thankful she had made such a nice friend. She thought back to her time spent with Stiles and what the kiss was all about. Emma wanted to ask Stiles what they were now and what the kiss meant. Were they in a relationship? Is this what a fling was? Emma groaned in frustration as she thought of her lack of experience in the dating field. She came to terms with the fact that she needed to know what she was dealing with- she was never the type to flip-flop around situations. She shook it off and came home to the phone ringing.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Em- it's Dad. Is everything okay?" Emma smiled to hear her father's voice.

_Everything's great. I'm having the most fun I've had in months. I actually have a social life and I had my first kiss with a guy I'm going crazy for._ "Yeah, it's fine here. How about you? How's Grandma?"

"Good, kiddo- she's good. Listen, I'll probably be back by Monday morning, alright?"

"Okay, sounds good. Take care of yourself!"

"You, too, Em. Love you."

"Love you, too." Emma dropped the phone back into its reciever and stood there for a while, leaning against the counter. She thought about her day so far and smiled- still wondering where she stood with Stiles. Emma daydreamed of them being in an official relationship. She decided to spend the rest of her afternoon finishing up the colossal load of homework she had assigned to her and reading a book she had bought back home but never read before. Before she knew it, it was 7 o'clock in the evening. Emma fixed up dinner for herself, went for a run, and called it an early night.

She spent the rest of the weekend in the house, a lot of time was spent talking on the phone to her best friend back home. She couldn't help but cry once she hung up, for she thought of her mother. After a short Sunday, Emma awoke on Monday, excited for her father's arrival.

She hopped out of her bed to see her dad's car in the driveway. She raced downstairs and gave him a big hug as he threw his bag by the staircase.

"Missed you, too," Bruce chuckled, "I was thinking- we should go out to dinner tonight." Emma happily agreed and after catching up, she went to go get ready. After a big breakfast and slipping on jeggings, a teal top and a leather jacket, Emma left the house, eager to see what the new week had in store for her. Mainly, what would happen with Stiles.


	17. That's Why You've Got Me

**Stiles' POV**

"And then, I got to the part where you enter the old mansion," Stiles continued his story of his progress in his video games to Scott in first period, "Don't get too excited, you might pull something." Scott chuckled and dug his face into his hands.

"Sorry, dude," Scott apologized, "You can't blame me- it's Monday morning. And I stayed out late with Allison last night."

"Oh, so sorry that's you're tired from spending your night with a girl," Stiles sarcastically told him, patting his shoulder, "I sympathize."

"Speaking of girls," Scott cocked his head to the right side of the classroom, raising his eyebrows. Stiles snapped his head to where Scott gestured to see Emma walking into classroom and looking down at a book. "I knew that would get you off my back."

"What?" Stiles muttered.

"Nothing," Scott quickly responded, snickering. Stiles looked back over to see Emma, leaning on Allisons' desk with a hand on her hip. As they spoke, Stiles smiled. "So, what's going on with Emma, anyway?"

"I don't know," Stiles replied, looking over to his friend's amused expression, "I like her.. and for some unknown.._ astonishing_ reason, she likes me." Stiles looked back up in Emma's direction to see her observing him with a smirk on her face. He silently nodded to her. She gripped her books to her chest and flashed him a heavenly smile. The English class seemed to fly by, for a change. The alarm sounded to signal the beginning of lunch. Stiles shot out of his seat, looking forward to spending time with Emma.

The six of them sat at a cafeteria table, Emma right beside Stiles. He was overjoyed that she had chosen to sit next to him. As Lydia talked to the group, mainly Allison, he thought about the crush he had on her for so long. He thought he liked her more than anyone, until he met Emma. Stiles looked over at the caramel-blonde that sat beside him as she looked through her paper bag, thinking about how much he felt for her. Lydia didn't compare to her. Emma was sweet, polite and not afraid to be herself. He quickly looked back down at his blue fizzy drink, afraid to be too obvious that he was infatuated with Emma.

**Emma's POV**

Emma searched through her lunch-bag and looked up to see Lydia's mouth moving rapidly as she spoke of some new television show.

"Jackson and his coffee addiction," Lydia sighed as Jackson chugged back the white styrofoam cup.

"Did you know that it's actually possible to overdose on caffiene?" Emma blurted out, looking up to see Lydia staring at her.

"I'm counting on it," Jackson muttered.

"Who crapped in your Cheerios?" Jackson glared at Stiles with a brooding expression. Stiles wiggled his shoulders and shuddered, as if getting a chill. Emma couldn't help but giggle, smiling at the thought that her and Stiles were so alike.

"So, did you guys see that carnival by the park? We should all go," Allison stated, clearly comfortable with the group. Emma smiled at Allison, admiring her kindness. Scott replied- something about last year's carnival- meanwhile, Emma couldn't help but let out a soft tremble.

"What is it?" Stiles whirled his head to Emma. Emma smirked at him, amazed that he had actually heard her. She stalled for a moment, looking at him as he examined her face, hunched over the table and playing with the lid of his bottle.

"Carnival," Emma stuttered, "Rides. Really high rides." Stiles chuckled sympathetically and straightened his posture and patted Emma's arm. Emma felt a warm rush go through her body just by his subtle touch.

"Emma? You want to go?" Allison asked, craning her head to inspect her face.

"Sure," Emma uneasily answered. Stiles grinned at Emma, his enthralling, hazel eyes looking back at hers. Emma glowed back at him, noticing his predominant dimples. She bit her lip and looked back down at her uninteresting lunch.

"Good, then. Friday," Allison insured.

"I've never been on a triple group date before," Lydia announced. Emma's cheeks flushed at the thought of going on an official date with Stiles, although she was kind of relieved at the possibility Stiles would understand that she_ did_ want to go out with him. Her and Stiles. An official couple. Emma bit her lip. There was a short silence at the table.

"And thankfully, there aren't any clowns at these things," Scott said, followed by chuckles scattering through the small crowd. The lunch period went by quickly. Emma was thankful that she had made friends so easily at this new school. After lunch, her next period went by really slow, mainly because she couldn't wait to see Stiles in Biology. After the bell rang, Emma sped-walk to class. She walked into the room to see Stiles, attempting to balance a pencil on the bridge of his nose. Emma chuckled and reached the desk, pulling out the stool and sitting next to him.

"You going for a record?" Emma teased, snickering. Stiles looked down at her, flashing his famous heart-stopping smile and caught the pencil as it fell off of his face. Emma turned to face the front of the classroom as she took out her binder.

"Stiles?" Emma questioned, a bit hesitant, "We're still up for.. studying at my house, right?"

"Uh, ye-yeah. If-if you want to, still," Stiles replied, clearly nervous.

"Yeah, I do," Emma happily told him, "I was thinking tomorrow- I just have to ask my dad."

"Sounds good." Emma looked over at Stiles, feeling an uncontrollable grin grow on her face. She could stare at him forever. The bell blared, signalling the beginning of the period.

After half an hour of speaking, Mr. Harris assigned silent textbook work. Stiles offered to go get a book for Emma and went to the front of the class. As Emma watched him walk away, admiring his chivalry, she thought of how he made her feel. How she definitely was attracted to him- but it was more than that. He had a caring, selfless soul, which was something that made her even more smitten with him. He came back, plopping the heavy textbook in front of her. "Thanks," she said, opening it and looking for the page she had to find.

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles searched through his textbook, telling himself he had to do this work. He didn't want Emma to think he was lazy. He ripped out a piece of paper from his notebook and began. Stiles looked at the long questions assigned and groaned.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Emma quickly whispered.

"Nothing," Stiles replied, hoping to convince her. He didn't like the thought of her thinking he was a whiner.

"Okay, now this time, how 'bout telling me the truth?" Stiles looked over at Emma smirking at him.

"I just don't get any of this and we have a test on it this Friday and it's..." his voice trailed on into nothingness as he held his face in his hands.

"Hey, that's why you've got me," Emma chirped. Stiles felt a numbness in his stomach, "You're still trying- you have to give yourself credit for that." Stiles looked back at Emma's lovely brown eyes. He was so glad he had someone to talk to. Someone who actually listened to him without judging him.

"Do be quiet," Mr. Harris mumbled in a hoarse voice. Stiles looked to the front desk to see the teacher glaring at them. Stiles scoffed and looked back down to the textbook in front of him.

"Thanks," Stiles whispered gratefully.

"You're welcome," Emma whispered back.

The rest of the class went by at a snail's pace, mainly because every time Stiles attempted to start a conversation with Emma, or vice-versa, Mr. Harris would stop them with some rude, sarcastic joke. As Stiles proudly looked at all he'd accomplished, the bell rang. Stiles peeked over to Emma's assignment to see neat writing and detailed diagrams. He grinned, admiring how much she cared for her schoolwork.

"So, I'll let you know about tomorrow," Emma told him as she threw her binder into her backpack. "I'll see you later." She gave him one last smile and walked out of the classroom.

**Emma's POV**

Emma happily walked home, excited for her dinner with her father. She got ready and they left shortly after he arrived home. The two of them went out to an Italian restaurant and had a nice, long conversation about the new city they lived in and some clubs she was interested at joining in the school, all over dinner and dessert. As they drove home, Emma asked her father what had been on her mind all through the night.

"Dad? Is it okay if I have a friend come over tomorrow? To study for that big Bio test," Emma questioned, looking over at her father's casual profile.

"I don't see why not," Bruce replied. "I'll be coming home around 4, so I'd prefer they come over after that."

"No problem," Emma replied happily. They reached their house and decided to turn on the television and watch whatever gameshow they could find. They decided on one and began to watch it, meanwhile shouting out answers anytime they could. Commercials began to play shortly. One for some clothing store was presented, bringing painful memories back to Emma.

"Mom hated that commercial.. she thought it was so annoying," she muttered, shaking her head with a small smile on her face.

"Are you ready to talk about it, then?" Bruce asked. Emma looked at her father's suprised face. She knew it was obvious she was avoiding talking about it. But ever since she opened up to Stiles, she realized letting it out felt so much better than keeping it bottled in.

"Dad, I just miss them," Emma mumbled, not fighting the tears forming in her eyes, "And I figured not talking or thinking about it would make the pain of it go away."

"I miss them too, Emma. But the first step is accepting it." Emma hugged her father without a word. After a long night of speaking to eachother, Emma had never felt closer to her father before. Before she knew it, it was almost midnight. Emma gave her father one last hug and went up to bed.

She woke up exhausted. The first thought that entered her mind was her mother and sister. Every morning had been like this since the accident. She thought of her father and was glad they had such a conversation the previous night. Then, she thought of Stiles and smiled. She went on her morning routine- brushing her teeth and hair. Emma picked a purple floral blouse, black jeans, a black cardigan, a cream-coloured scarf and white flats. She placed a coat of aqua-blue eyeshadow on her eyelids and put on strawberry-scented chap-stick, telling herself she needed to stop her lip-biting habit. Emma went out the door after having a small breakfast and saying goodbye to her dad.

After first period, Emma happily went to her English class. Just seeing Stiles sitting there in his desk, with an adorable grin on his face made her smile. She never thought she'd met someone so full of life. Eventually, class ended and it was lunchtime. Emma routinely walked out with Allison, Scott and Stiles. They had another casual lunch period, discussing new movies coming out.

**Stiles' POV**

"So, Emma, you thinking of joining any teams?" Lydia asked, bringing the group's attention to Emma for once.

"I wanted to join volleyball, but I guess the season is over," Emma replied, "If there's a book club, I-"

"Nerd alert," Jackson muttered, hiding his words in a cough.

"Shut up," Stiles snapped, glaring at Jackson. Jackson gave him an amused grin.

"I'm guessing you don't enjoy reading," Emma chuckled, accustomed to Jackson's sardonic humour. She placed her hand over Stiles' on the bench under the table, concealing it from everyone else, as if to thank him. Stiles looked down at his lunch, beaming.

"Don't mind him- chronic hatred for everyone and everything," Scott responded. Emma chuckled and nodded her head.

"Can it, McCall," Jackson murmered. Stiles couldn't help but snicker at Jackson's obvious disgruntlement. He heard Emma's familiar giggling from his right side as well. Following lunch, Stiles had his Math class. Once last period came around, Stiles earnestly made his way through the flouresent-lit corridors of the highschool. He wondered if Mr. Harris had noticed that he was earlier to class since Emma came to the school. She soon walked through the door- Stiles couldn't help but appreciate just how stunning she looked, especially in purple. She came around to their desk and plopped her backpack on the tabletop. It made a loud banging sound.

"You got bricks in there?" Stiles laughed.

"This is what happens when any of my classes gets a period booked in the library," Emma stated, "I check out every book I possibly can." Stiles grinned at her, contented that she was such a smart girl.

They had an amusing Biology period, mainly due to the fact that a substitute teacher came in half-way in the period.

"Don't forget about your presentations tomorrow," Mr. Harris called to the students as he left the classroom, "If you're not prepared, it's an automatic zero." The substitute teacher sat in the front desk- she evidently couldn't care less whether the students did their silent textbook work or not. Stiles and Emma spent their time practicing their presentation and making jokes along the way. The bell rang, informing them it was the end of the day. The two of them walked out of the classroom and down the hallway.

"Oh, you're still coming over, right?" Emma asked.

"Oh- yeah," Stiles coughed, trying to conceal the fact that he was so anxious about them spending time at her house. He looked up to see Scott standing by Allison's locker with her, grinning jovially at the fact that he and Emma walking together. Stiles half-smiled, looking back down at the scuffed school floor.

"I'll see you at my house, then. 4:30," Emma confirmed, cutting apart from his side once they reached the fork in the corridor.

"4:30," Stiles whispered to himself and headed for practice.


	18. It Was Worth a Try

_Hope this one meets your expectations. :) Thanks again for the reviews!_

**Emma's POV**

Emma came home to her empty house, kicking off her shoes and sorting through all of them to make them look organized. After tidying up the house, Emma started her Economics homework, but quickly got distracted when she thought of her new library books. After finishing the fourth chapter on one of her books, Emma noticed it was 4:15 and her father still wasn't home. She organized her desk and checked herself in the mirror really quickly. She smoothed down her bronze hair, excited to see Stiles. Soon after, she heard her loud doorbell blare through the house. Emma rushed down the stairs, trailing her hand down the banister She swung open the front door to see Stiles standing there with a goofy smile screwed on his face, his hazel eyes glowing and his dimples caving into his cheeks.

"Hi," Emma lit up as she saw him. Following her impulses, she stepped before him and threw her arms around him. He immediately embraced her firmly.

"Hi," Stiles replied with an amused tone. Emma's head was dug into his neck. As the cool air began to press against her face, she couldn't help but draw in his comforting musk through her nostrils. Emma pulled back, her hands swinging back to her sides. She was a little embarrased by her brash approach, but continued to gaze into his hazel eyes.

"Sorry," she chuckled as she brushed her bangs back.

"You should be- that was offensive," Stiles joked, licking his lips before he spoke.

"Well, I know my doorstep is really interesting, but.." Emma stepped back and looked at the hardwood floor she stood on.

"Right," Stiles yarned. He walked in, his backpack slouched over his shoulder. He kicked off his sneakers into a neat corner and looked up at Emma with raised eyebrows. He was gorgeous in his patterned t-shirt and brown hoodie. Emma led him upstairs, but quickly scurried into her room way ahead of Stiles and hid behind the door. As Stiles waringly stepped into her bedroom, Emma popped out from behind the door and screamed.

"What the hell!" Stiles shouted, jumping.

"Revenge," Emma chuckled. She held her hand to her stomach as she laughed at Stiles' reddened face. "Not so fun getting spooked, is it?"

"I don't think this is ever going to end- these tricks we play on eachother," Stiles muttered as he threw his backpack over to Emma's bedside.

"I think I can accept that," Emma shrugged. Stiles chuckled as he slowly stepped towards Emma. He towered over her. Stiles took a loose strand of her hair off her face and tucked it behind her ear. "Thanks," she whispered. Emma bit her lip and looked at him as his thumb trailed down her cheek. They stood together in silence. With intent in his eyes, Stiles leaned towards her. Emma closed her eyes to feel his warm lips against hers. Their lips seperated with a smack.

"That won't get you out of studying, you know," Emma breathed out to find her arms wrapped around his torso.

"It was worth a try," Stiles replied.

"A good one, too," Emma chuckled. She forced herself to step back. She kept eye-contact with him as she met the wall by her desk and slid down to sit on the floor. Stiles followed. They sat across from eachother as he leaned on her bed, books scattered across the floor and on their laps.

**Stiles' POV**

His lips still tickling from her kiss, Stiles stared at Emma as she read through a paragraph, trying to find the answer to a question on the review sheet that was given to them. He couldn't help but stare. Her butterscotch hair was pulled back, exposing her small face. Her full, rose lips moved silently as she read to herself. Emma looked up from the book to catch Stiles staring at her. This time, however, he didn't look away. He felt a smile grow on his face.

"What?" she chuckled. Stiles shook his head without a word and shrugged his shoulders. "You have tiny feet," Stiles remarked, examining her outstretched legs.

"Shush," Emma laughed, pulling her legs back beneath her. Her sweet giggle was intoxicating.

"Hey Em, I'm home! I forgot to stop by the store- I'm going now. Do you need any feminine products?" a male voice shouted from the hallway.

"Dad!" Emma exclaimed, shuddering. Stiles couldn't help but chuckle as he looked over at her flushed face.

"Come on, I thought we were past this," Stiles turned to see Bruce peeking his head into Emma's bedroom. He widened his eyes to realize Stiles was with her. "Oh, I'm sorry- I completely forgot you had company."

"Dad, you've heard of Stiles," Emma muttered, looking down and embarrasingly resting her hand over her eyes, "Stiles- my dad." Stiles stood up from his position on the floor and walked towards the man. He nervously gave him a firm handshake, just like Emma had done when she met Stiles' father.

"Nice to- to meet you, sir," Stiles said.

"You, too," the friendly man replied. "Well, I'm off." He said, leaving with a coy smile on his face.

"Oh, God," Emma muttered, her face in her hands. Stiles walked back towards where they sat and lowered down to sit back across from her.

"Your turn to get embarrased," Stiles chuckled.

"Let's just.. move on from that," Emma replied, revealing her pink face. Stiles chuckled and grabbed his notebook. "So, as you were saying- the answer to number 8?" Emma gave Stiles a humble smirk and responded to his question. Emma's father came home soon after and shouted to them from downstairs to announce his arrival. They continued to study for the next 45 minutes.

"And how many chambers does that have?"

"Four?" Stiles muttered nervously.

"You're going to ace this test," Emma announced with a smile, "And we are going to do awesome on that presentation tomorrow." She slid her books off her lap and stretched her arms out in the air above her.

"Hey, thanks to you."

"Oh," Emma modestly replied, dismissively waving her hand in the hair. "We just bring out the best in each other."

"I say we celebrate," Stiles replied, closing his book and tucking it into his open backpack.

"Celebrate? Celebrate what?" Emma echoed.

"Our great study session," Stiles chirped, getting up to stand, "Where ever you want to go, I'm up for it." He offered a hand to Emma. Her soft, small hand fit into his as she stood up across from him.

"I'm itching to see some more of Beacon Hills' landscape, if you're cool with that." Stiles smiled, esteeming how unique she was.

"Yeah," was all he could say. His temptation to kiss her was too strong to think of a reply. Emma raised her eyebrows as she grabbed her phone off of her desk and slipped it in her pocket. She snatched his hand and led him out of her room and down the stairs.

"Dad, we're just going to- we'll be back soon, okay?" Emma called back as she slipped on her shoes.

"Um, okay," her dad answered uneasily from the dining room. Emma swung open the front door and Stiles followed.

"I'll drive," Stiles insisted. They got into his Jeep and immediately started to cruise down the lonely road. The sky was beginning to darken, the air getting colder. Emma sat in the seat next to him. She contently crossed her legs and stuck her head out of the open window.

Stiles decided on an area he remembered to have a trail. He slowed down the Jeep and parked on the side of the road. Emma eagerly slipped off her seatbelt and got out of the car. Stiles did so as well. They approached the tree-filled area and walked straight into it through a gravel trail.

"I've never seen anyone so mesmerized by trees," Stiles chuckled. He continued to watch Emma's beaming face looking at the scenery as they walked.

"They're beautiful, how could anyone not be?" Stiles smiled as he realized her deep appreciation for life. He felt a breeze blow through the forest and felt goosebumps grow on his arms. Stiles looked at Emma, her blonde hair being swept back by the wind. "Thanks for giving me the tour."

"Thanks for being so easy to please," Stiles responded. Emma laughed as he smiled at her. "I like spending time with you." There it was again- his inability to keep any of his thoughts in when he was with her.

"Likewise," she replied. Stiles looked at her to see her crossing her arms over her chest. He figured she was cold. Stiles cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner.

**Emma's POV**

"Here," Stiles mumbled. Emma turned her head to see him offering his hoodie to her. Knowing he wouldn't take no for an answer, Emma took the hoodie.

"Thanks," she said. Emma took the oversized sweater over her back and put her arms through each sleeve. It was soft and gave off Stiles' comforting scent. This token of graditude was something Emma had always admired in the movies- she was happy thinking of the two of them as a couple. Emma looked down at the big sweater and attempted to zip it up, however, the zipper stubbornly sat at the bottom.

"Yeah, that one's annoying," Stiles muttered. They stopped at an arched bridge. Stiles struggled with the zipper, but soon was able to zip it up to her chin.

"Thank you," Emma responded. She stepped on her tip-toes and kissed his soft cheek.

Suddenly, they heard a deep growl and the sound of bushes shaking. Stiles immediatley wrapped a protective arm around Emma and pushed her to stand behind him. He snapped his head around in different directions, looking to see what caused the sound.

"Oh, no," Stiles muttered. Emma looked to see what his gaze was fixed upon. She saw a black figure far away, almost zooming through the forest. It looked just like the thing she convinced herself she didn't see not so long ago on her jog. "Stiles," Emma breathed, scared. She gripped Stiles' arm with her fingers. Her chin was pressed against him as she looked over his shoulder.

"Emma, I have to tell you something," Stiles' hoarse yet comforting voice soothed her.

"Okay," her voice was shaking. As the shadowy figure rapidly moved through the forest, shaking trees in every direction, Emma was frozen and breathless. She managed to make small steps back with every blink. She wasn't sure about was happening in front of her.

"I know we just met and.. but-" Emma clutched onto Stiles' bicep. Her heavy breathing and quickened heart-rate all she could hear. The dark, shadowy figure shook trees left and right. Suddenly, Emma lost her footing. She screamed as she flew back and felt a sharp pain in the back of her head. The last thing she remembered seeing was a flash of the dark blue sky above her.


	19. Trust Me, I Know

**Emma's POV**

Emma felt her aching forehead crinkling in confusion. She opened her eyes to find herself in the Jeep. She saw Stiles, his shaky hands tapping on the steering wheel with the most frantic expression she'd ever seen on someone. The backdrop of forestry became a blur behind him as he sped down the road. She looked down to see she was lying on the seat, her head resting on the window. "What happened?" her groggy voice broke the silence.

"Oh," Stiles sighed, looking over at Emma and resting his hand on her leg, "You lost control of your tiny feet, fell and bumped your head."

"My feet are not tiny," Emma mumbled. She sat up to feel a rush go through her body and pain her head. Soft acoustic music whispered out of the radio.

"Yeah, they are," Stiles chuckled. The car had slowed down to a normal speed.

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"What just happened?"

"I- I don't know, Emma," Stiles stuttered, bringing his hand up to scratch underneath his chin.

"It kind of seems like you do. Avoiding eye contact, touching your face; common signs of deception."

"Stop studying my body movements, will you?" Stiles exclaimed, snapping both his hands to rest on the steering wheel again. They stopped at a stop sign.

"I'm just saying- I'd prefer to know what just happened. We could of died," Emma explained. She was still buried in cloth from his hoodie. She held the back of her head sensitively and looked over to Stiles.

"Well, we're not dead, are we?" he responded, glancing over in her direction.

"Are you going to keep stalling, or..?"

"You're cute when you're angry." Stiles snickered.

"I won't be so cute when I hit you," Emma joked. She was frustrated, but he was so hard to be mad at, especially when he laughed like that. "Where are we going?"

"The hospital," Stiles casually responded.

"But I'm fine."

"You just smacked your head off a rock into unconsciousness, and you're fine?" Stiles worryingly explained, "I'm not taking any chances." Emma couldn't help but stare at Stiles, admiring his caring personality.

"Wait a minute- so you carried me out? All that way?" she realized.

"No, you slept-walk and we stopped for a milkshake."

"Stiles," Emma seriously muttered.

"Emma," he playfully responded.

"Did you call my dad?"

"No, do you wa-"

"No! Don't! I don't want him freaking out- seriously, I'm fine, can we just not go to the hospital? It'd just be a waste of time."

"Emma, I have to make sure you're okay," Stiles answered patiently. Emma noticed persperation on his forehead and his chest rising up and down quicker than usual.

"Okay," Emma breathed, leaning against the back of her seat, "Sorry I'm being like this- I should be thanking you.. you did kind of save me. So, thanks."

"You-you're welcome."

"What were you going to say? In the woods- right before I graciously slipped into a mini-coma," Emma quickly said to see his eyebrows furrow in displeasure at her question.

"Man, for a girl that just hit her head, you have a great memory," Stiles muttered.

"What were you going to say?" Emma insisted, leaning forward and touching his forearm.

"I'll- I'll tell you later."

"I don't like being kept in the dark, you know."

"Trust me, I know," Stiles responded. They turned into a vast parking lot in front of a large, white building.

"I'm eventually going to squeeze it out of you," Emma assured him. Stiles gave her a heart-stopping grin.

"Trust me, I know," he repeated. Stiles found a vacant parking lot and slipped the key out of the ignition. He quickly got out of the car and ran to Emma's side. He opened the door for her, offering a hand to help her out. Dizzy, Emma gladly took his hand and slipped out of the Jeep.

Stiles closed the door behind her and automatically locked the vehicle. As they walked side-by-side towards the building, Emma felt his arm firmly grip around her shoulders. She leaned her head into his shoulder and put her arm around his middle.

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles worringly shuffled in his seat in the waiting room as Emma was getting checked up on by a doctor. He was grateful Scott's mother wasn't in. He played the encounter in the forest in his head several times, confused how to explain it to Emma. He_ did_ want to tell her the truth, he_ did_ trust her; he just didn't know if it was the right thing to do. After a few minutes, Emma walked into the vacant waiting room with a blank expression, his sweater hanging off of her. Stiles shot out of his seat and stood close to her.

"He said I'm perfectly fine," Emma explained to him, "I just need rest." Stiles sighed, relieved she was okay. "Stiles, seriously," Emma asserted, "What _was_ that?" Stiles nervously licked his lips. He put his hands in his pockets as the two of them walked out of the building. He couldn't possibly tell her what it really was. That they were so close to being attacked by a werewolf. There was no way he was going to tell her the truth. Not here- not now.

"I don't know," he lied, "I'm just glad you're okay. That's all I care about right now." He definetley meant the rest of his statement. He couldn't remember the last time he was so anxious than when he saw her lying on the forest floor, motionless. Emma sighed, clearly upset he was hiding it from her.

"Okay," she politely understood, hooking her hand around his elbow. They walked back to the Jeep and began to drive to Emma's home. As they sat in silence, the breedle of muffled words jattered from underneath Emma's seat. Emma looked around wildly as Stiles winced. She curiously searched under her seat and pulled out the small walkie-talkie Stiles had stolen from his father.

"Is this..?" To his surprise, Emma laughed as she examined the radio. "Stiles, you are too awesome," she remarked, nudging his shoulder. Stiles beamed. "Have you ever seen any cool crime scenes?"

"I've seen my share," Stiles playfully boasted.

"Can I come to one with you?" she eagerly questioned. Stiles loved her child-like enthusiasm.

"Of course," he chirped. They continued to listen the the muffled woman's voice over the walkie-talkie.

The two of them walked into her warm house. Stiles checked his phone, seeing it was almost 7, realizing they were almost away for two hours. He worringly took off his sneakers and trailed Emma as she walked up the stairs. He followed her to her bedroom and shut the door behind them.

Emma plopped down on her bed. She patted the empty spot beside her with an innocent smile on her face. Stiles eagerly sat down beside her, bouncing on the bed. Emma chuckled at his nature.

"Are you in trouble?" Stiles concerningly realized, "We weren't exactly out for a short period of time."

"Oh, no," Emma answered, "I'm sure he _completely _trusts a teenage boy he just met with his daughter."

"Sarcasm," Stiles stated, looking at her through serious eyes.

"I would never," Emma exclaimed. Stiles couldn't help but laugh. "But seriously, don't worry about it- even though he has been.. on an 'overprotective-rampage' lately, it's not a big deal." He understood she was referring to her mother and sister's decease- it made sense that Bruce would now be extra-cautious over his only daughter.

"Rupert," Stiles muttered.

"What?"

"My real name. It's Rupert. But tell anyone, and I'll-" Emma's laughter interrupted him. She clapped her hands once and threw her body back. She slowly leaned her body into his side.

"I like it," Emma told him, placing a soft hand on his cheek. "And I swear not to tell a soul." Stiles looked into her warm brown eyes and grinned back at her. He glanced down at his watch and groaned.

"I should really go."

"How about you don't?" Emma mumbled. Stiles chuckled, flattered and planted a kiss on Emma's warm forehead. He really didn't want to go- but knew his father would be upset with him if he was out of the house any longer.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Stiles whined. Emma pulled back from her grip on his arm and sat up to look at him. "Take care of that head, you're going to need it."

"Okay," Emma responded, nodding. Although he had originally went in to give her a kiss on the cheek, Stiles' lips met Emma's. He loved kissing her. It was something couples did. Nothing would make him happier than Emma being his official girlfriend. As they pulled away from another innocent kiss, he licked his lips, trying to aid his dry mouth.

"Oh, here," Emma mumbled, quickly zipping down the hoodie she had borrowed from him. She took it off and handed it to him. "Thanks. Let me walk you to the door," she offered. She stood up, leaving a red-faced Stiles to pick his backpack up off the floor and walk out of the room with her. "You have a game coming up, right?"

"Yeah, tomorrow, actually," Stiles exclaimed, nearly forgetting. "I'm going to be playing in place for the guy that got injured last time."

"That's great! I'll be there to cheer you on," she said, making Stiles blush. They reached the front door to see Mr. Landson sitting in the living room in front of the television.

"Thanks for having me, sir," Stiles nervously called to him, giving him a friendly wave.

"Oh, no problem," the man replied, getting up from the couch and walking towards the two of them. Emma leaned against the wall as she watched them speak. "You're the Sheriff's son, yes?"

"One and only," Stiles replied with a grin. He looked at Emma, who had an angelic smile on her face. "How is it working with him?"

**Emma's POV**

Emma watched as Stiles and her father conversed. She couldn't help but feel a deeper fondness for Stiles as he politely spoke to her dad. She truly did have deep feelings for him- he was funny, caring and selfless. Emma admired him from a distance as he spoke.

Soon after, Stiles left, leaving her with a breath-taking smile. To Emma's surprise, her father didn't question her about her and Stiles' little 'study-break'. He just grinned at her, informed her that macaroni and cheese would be on the table in a while and went back to watching television.

Emma climbed up the stairs and plopped down on her bed, thinking of her day. She finally had time to think about the incident in the forest. What was it they saw? It looked like a big animal- a bear, maybe? She shrugged it off, promising herself to interrogate Stiles about it when she had the chance. Emma lay in bed for a while, until her father called for dinner. She sat at the table, organizing their cutlery, when Bruce asked her.

"That Stiles kid- you two get along?"

"Yeah, I'd say," Emma answered as inconspicously as she possibly could. "He's really nice."

"Hmm," her father hummed in thought, "Well, he_ is_ a teenage boy and-"

"Dad- we've had this talk," Emma snickered, "Please don't subject me to it again." The two of them sat across from eachother at the small dinner table.

"I'm just saying, with hormones that-"

"Don't say 'hormones'," Emma muttered, putting a hand up in the air. "We're just lab partners, Dad." _Lab partners. That spoke of things they would never speak about with other people. And that occasionally kissed._

"Alright," her dad said, defeated. They continued their dinner, talking about various topics. After dinner, Emma realized her exaustion and went straight to bed.

In the morning, Emma took extra time to look her best. She put on black jeans, a white tunic and a black, floral scarf. Emma applied light make-up, curled her hair to bouncy spirals and slipped on baby-blue ballet flats. Emma routinely walked to school, glad she didn't have to rely on her car anymore.

Emma approached the full school parking lot and went into the school. As she walked through the halls to reach her locker, she spotted Allison and Lydia speaking.

"Hey," Emma chirped as she approached them.

"I like your hair," Lydia mentioned, as if approving her choice.

"Thanks," Emma responded, touching the top of her head to feel the bobby-pin in its place. "So, how are you guys?"

"Okay," Allison said, nodding her head, "I have this big Calculus test today and I'm kind of freaking out."

"You shouldn't worry about it," Emma consoled. "There's a game tonight, right?"

"Yeah," Allison replied. The morning bell blared through the corridors, signalling the 5 minute time-frame until first period. Emma stepped back, pointing to the direction she intended to walk in. Before Emma could say goodbye, she felt an arm wrap around her waist. Her feet were lifted from the ground. Emma quietly squealed as a firm grip carried her on their side, inhaling the familiar scent. "I'll see you guys later!" Emma called back to their coy expressions.


	20. You Survived

_First things first: I am so sorry I haven't updated since prehistoric times. My computer died a horrible death and I had to wait forever to get a new one! So sorry! Thankfully, I got a new laptop, which means actual updates. Hope you enjoy!_

**Stiles' POV**

Emma squealed, drumming her hands against Stiles' forearm. He reached her locker and lightly dropped her to face him.

"Stiles!" Emma cutely exclaimed. She put her hands on her hips and looked up at him.

"I figured you needed a different mode of transporation," Stiles shrugged. Emma chuckled as she turned and fiddled with her lock.

"Thank you- what's the fare?"

"Dinner. With me. At a restaurant. An official-" Stiles stopped himself from saying anything else. There he was, his heart racing, actually asking Emma out. Emma swung open her locker door and turned her head over her shoulder to look at him.

"An official date?" Emma guessed. She guessed correctly.

"Ye-yeah," Stiles nodded, placing his hands in his pockets. He was still so nervous around her.

"I'd love to," Emma responded with a smile. She took out a purple gym bag from her locker and closed it. They stood, facing eachother as numerous students passed them.

"Me too," Stiles told her. "After the game- let's go." _Tonight? She's going to think I'm obsessive_, he thought. "If you're staying for the game. You don't have to, I just-"

"Can't wait," Emma whispered to his surprise. She flashed him a lovely smile. "I'll see you in English. Thanks for the ride." She swung her gym bag around her shoulder and smirked at him. Emma turned around and walked down to her first period class.

"I'm guessing things are going well?" Scott's familiar voice came from behind him. Stiles quickly turned around with an uncontrollable grin. "You guys didn't study at all last night, did you?"

"We did, though," Stiles assured him as they walked the opposite way down the busy corridor, "Oh, and we also saw a werewolf, but you know, whatever."

"Are you serious?"

"She saw it herself, Scott," Stiles worringly confessed, "I don't know what to tell her."

"Not the truth!" Scott exclaimed.

"I'm too worried to come up with a sarcastic retort," Stiles said.

"Dude, just don't worry about it," Scott told him. Stiles sighed, stopping at the door of his first period class, "It'll blow over." Stiles gave his friend a concerned half-smile and went into his classroom.

His class went by quickly, followed by English, then finally Lunch. Stiles had always joked that this was his favourite part of the day, but it truly was. He found himself sitting at the cafeteria table, between Emma and Scott, scarfing down his microwaved hamburger. They spent the lunch having common conversation and to Stiles' relief, Emma didn't mention anything about the creature they saw just the previous evening.

**Emma's POV**

After another joyful lunch, Emma made her way to Economics, then Biology. She walked into the classroom to see Stiles nervously scratching the back of his head at his seat. It was the day of the presentation. Emma slid into her seat and looked at him, hopeful to make him feel better. She could imagine the anxiety he was feeling due to the pressure of doing well on the presentation and tonight's game. She was eager to continue questioning him on the incident in the woods, but decided against it. Mr. Harris interrupted her thoughts.

"Presentations today," his voice boomed, "You have 5 minutes for preparation."

"You want to go up first? To get it over with? And a bonus; we could get mercy marks," Emma suggested. Stiles looked over at her with widened eyes.

"First?" he muttered. Emma smiled at his puppy-dog expression, wanting to take his face into her hands and kiss him as hard as she could.

"Yeah, first! Come on, Stiles," Emma nudged his arm, "Do it for me." She suggestively raised her eyebrows at him and placed her intertwined hands below her chin.

"Fine," he sighed, a small smirk growing on his face.

"Wow, that was easy," Emma remarked, sitting up, her eyes glued to him, "I mean- good. We practiced, we got this in the bag." He looked back to her as she attempted to give him the most comforting smile she could.

"So, Italian or Chinese, maybe?"

"Or Austrailian or Icelandic, perhaps?" Emma muttered, completely confused, "I don't get it- what are we doing?" Stiles' intoxicating laughter spilled from his mouth.

"I mean for dinner. Tonight," Stiles muttered. Emma felt her heart fluttering.

"I'm okay with anything- oh, I was also thinking; I heard about this paintball place about 10 minutes out of town," she fibbed, thinking back to a few nights ago, when in reality, she searched up paintball places on the Internet. She had never been too concerned about others' opinions, but for whatever reason- Stiles' thoughts on her mattered more to her each today. She wanted to make a good impression- for him to think she wasn't boring. She looked at his amused expression.

"You know, you're pretty much the coolest person I know- aside from me, of course," Stiles teased.

"Oh, of course," Emma snickered, relieved, "I've never actually gone, but I figured you'd be up for it."

"I am," he agreed, "Let's do it. Er, the p-paintball I mean." Emma laughed at his stutters.

"Alright, let's get this over with," Mr. Harris announced, "Any volunteers or am I going to have to take victims?" Emma shot her arm up in the air.

"Alright: Emma, Stiles," Mr. Harris said, throwing his hand up in the air. He leaned against the side wall and awaited their arrival at the front of the classroom. Emma quickly grabbed the board out of her backpack and grinned at Stiles as he nervously slid out of his seat.

"I hope they brought extra socks, because we're about to knock them off," she whispered to him under the student's chatter.

"The dork in you is coming out," Stiles remarked, "I like it." Emma chuckled and groaned.

**Stiles' POV**

Thankfully, the presentation wasn't bad as he thought it would be. It was over very quickly. Stiles gratefully glanced over at Emma once he finished his last sentence. The class mechanically gave them a light applause. Sighing, Stiles trailed Emma back to their desk.

"You survived," Emma smiled as soon as they sat down. He looked over at her lovely grin. He could only smile back.

The rest of the presenations went by quickly as well, mainly because Stiles was preoccupied by sketching doodles around the page in front of him and staring at Emma. As soon as the period was over, Stiles felt his stomach drop once he realized he had a lacrosse game.

"Don't be nervous for the game," Emma asked him as she brought her backpack to her lap and began to load it.

"Holy crap- how can you tell?"

"Magic," Emma answered, standing up and swinging her bag around her shoulder. Stiles did his best to take her advice and walked out of the classroom by her side. "I'll see you out there," Emma mumbled once they reached their seperation. She gave him a grin and turned to walk into her corridor.

**Emma's POV**

As she sat in the crowd, Emma placed her elbow on her leg and rested her chin in her hand, thinking about Stiles. His eyes. His lips. Their dinner that night. She smiled as she thought of how good of a kisser he was. She remembered the feeling of their first kiss- her lips craved to be against his again. They had kissed three seperate times- in the forest once and at her house two times. She wanted to kiss him a fourth. And a fifth. And maybe a hundred more. Emma also wanted to tell her new friends about her current love life, but at the same time, didn't. She was excited about the way he made her feel and wanted to scream about it, yet didn't want to be too forward, so decided to begin talking about it once they were official. Emma mentally crossed her fingers at this thought.

"-club, Emma?" Allison's voice interrupted her trance.

"Huh?" Emma mumbled, "Sorry- pardon me?"

"Oh, I was just asking about the book club- if you got to join yet," Allison chuckled.

"No, not yet- hopefully I'll be able to find the teacher in charge of it," Emma answered, slightly embarrassed. Allison nodded and began talking about some other club to Lydia.

The game zoomed by, full of cheers and groans. It ended with Beacon Hills 1 point ahead, thus winning the game. The crowd roared, seeming like they got louder with every game. Emma followed everyone as they stood up and clapped at the result of the game. Allison and Lydia quickly shuffled out of their spots, motioning at Emma to follow them.

Emma ran down the metal steps behind them and got to the bottom of the bleachers. She was soon lost in the crowd of running lacrosse players, each shouting and cheering. The excitement filled the air as people hollered and jumped around. Emma spotted Stiles' pink face nearby and only had to take a few steps to get close to him. He smiled as soon as he saw her looking at him, carrying his helmet and panting. Her heart leaped at the thought of him so eager to see her. Without thought, Emma threw her arms around Stiles' neck to congradulate his goal with a fourth kiss.

Emma pulled back from his soft lips and felt as if someone's eyes were burning a hole through her. She turned to see the stunned faces of Lydia, Allison, Scott and Jackson just behind them. Emma quickly took her hands off of Stiles' firm shoulders and back to her sides. She bit her lip and waited for someone to speak.


	21. But It's a Cute Fish

_Thank you so much for your patience :) Hope you enjoy it!_

**Stiles' POV**

"Well," Scott exclaimed, "I have work, so I have to get going." Stiles made a mental note to thank Scott for taking away the attention from his and Emma's public display of affection. Stiles looked down at Emma to see her silently giggling. He felt a smile grow on his lips.

"Did that just-"

"You have another late shift? Do you ever have a night off anymore?" Allison interrupted Lydia, following Scott's lead. Scott simply shrugged, a small smirk coming to his face as he coyly looked at Stiles.

"How about you and I go to get a coffee or something?" he muttered to Allison. Her cheeks became fuller as she grinned at him. Stiles looked back to the other couple. Jackson carelessly picked at a stain on his jersey as Lydia stood beside him, with her arms crossed over her chest as she looked at Emma with a raised eyebrow. Stiles wished to get away from the group and leave with Emma already. Thankfully, she commenced the act.

"Well, great job out there, you guys," her high voice was barely heard over the audience's chatter, "See you all tomorrow?" Emma reached back to hold Stiles' hand. She clutched onto his fingers and lead him away from the silent group. "Sorry," Emma whispered to Stiles.

"I was just seen-_ in public_, with a cute girl kissing me," Stiles whispered back, bending down to smell her soft, vanilla scent, "My poor soul."

"You're cute," Emma replied, making him smile, "Do you want to stay any longer to celebrate? We can stay, if you want t-"

"No, I think dinner with- with such a beautiful girl would be, would be better," Stiles winced at his awkward attempt at being smooth. Emma seemed to enjoy his gracelessness.

"What's with all the compliments? Do you need any homework help?" she sardonically muttered. They began to walk together at the same stride towards the school.

"Just telling the truth," he answered, with a bit more confidence, "And yes." Emma caught onto his joke and lightly tossed her arm back to hit his chest. Stiles responded by poking her side. Emma flinched and hopped back away from him.

"No way," Stiles astoundedly realised.

"What?" Emma eagerly asked him.

"You're ticklish!"

"Tell anyone and I'll kill you," Emma pointed a not-so-threatning finger to him.

"Emma, come, give me a hug," Stiles stretched his arms out to her, giving her a smirk. Emma shook her head as she grinned back at him as they continued to walk a few meters away from eachother.

"I don't trust you, Stilinski," Emma muttered back, defensively holding her arms out beside her.

"Come on," he taunted, "I just want a hug. What's so wrong about wanting a hug?" Emma began to walk quicker, but Stiles rapidly jogged up to her and grabbed her small waist from behind her. Emma shrieked as he tickled her sides. Her heavenly laughter got louder as he moved his hands up and down her torso. Emma squirmed out of his grip and dashed to a large nearby tree.

"Just go get out of those stinky clothes, will you?" Emma called back. She leaned against the thick trunk, with her arms crossed over her chest. Stiles felt as the grin on his face would never leave.

"I bet you would like that, wouldn't you?" Stiles playfully asked as he slowly took steps towards her. Emma gasped and chuckled. The sun's dark amber rays brushed her delicate face.

"Don't flatter yourself," she teased back. Stiles got closer to her, looking into her coffee-colored eyes. He brought his hand up to her soft cheek, licking his lips, awaiting for the words to come to him. He didn't know what it was about this girl that made him feel so connected to her. Made him feel like he could say or do anything, and she would understand him completely.

**Emma's POV**

Stiles' warm, slightly coarse knuckles dwindled down Emma's cheek. She couldn't help but feel a burning attraction in her stomach as she detected the scent of his perspiration. "What?" she giggled as his hazel eyes intently searched her face.

"N-nothing," Stiles stuttered once again, "You're.."

"What?" Emma repeated, "Stiles, you know I don't like when you're all cryptic."

"I'll be right back," Stiles swallowed, pushing himself back to an upright position. Emma sighed, shaking her head and smiling.

"Hurry up, I have dinner plans with a really hot guy," Emma called to him as he walked towards the school entrance.

"I'll be sure to get you there on time," Stiles joked back. He turned and flashed her a smile. How she loved that smile. Emma put her arms behind her and leaned against the cold tree trunk. She dug her nose into her scarf as the cool, autumn breeze blew through the parking lot. As loud students and parents passed by her, she was happy to see Stiles descending the school steps. Emma smiled at him as he approached her. She began to follow his lead. The breeze blew the scent of his cologne into her nostrils.

"You know, you _were _really great out there," Emma told him. Stiles scoffed and chuckled, looking down at his concrete beneath them.

"Thanks," he bashfully breathed. Emma grinned proudly at her accomplishment- he finally accepted a compliment. She still couldn't understand how he doubted himself- however, it gave him a humble quality; something she found very admirable. "So, I was thinking this Japanese restaurant," Stiles quickly mumbled.

"Japanese?" Emma echoed, honoring his creativity, "That sounds awesome."

"Yeah, most _normal _people would go to a _normal _restaurant that serves something.. _normal- _but, I'm not really into that kind of thing," Stiles mumbled, in a tone as if he wanted to impress her. Emma grinned.

"Only dead fish follow the stream," she quoted, remembering a poster that hung in her old Sociology class.

"Did you just compare me to a fish?"

"Yeah, but it's a cute fish." Stiles grinned at her, striking her with his perfect smile. She was slightly embarrassed once realizing that she had made a habit of calling him cute but shrugged it off, deciding she was simply stating the truth. They reached his Jeep and quickly got out of the parking lot, blasting a rock song.

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles studiously stared at Emma as she read over the menu. He still didn't understand how he had been graced with this colossal contrast of luck. A new beautiful girl came to his school, and _he _had her. He still had no idea why, though.

"Ooh, I love yam," she buzzed, her eyes still glued to the menu she held in front of her. Stiles searched around the dimly-lit restaurant, full of tables with tea-lights, separating people sitting across from each other. He looked back over at Emma, who was smiling at him.

"So, how long have you been playing lacrosse?" she asked him. He was flattered at her interest.

"Well, this is actually my first year being a part of the actual game," Stiles explained, "But I've always liked it." Emma nodded and continued to ask him questions about his life, his preferences- everything. He was glad to answer her questions. He felt overjoyed that she cared so much. They spent the rest of the night conversing over a good dinner, discussing things Stiles never had the chance to talk about. Emma brought out a part of Stiles that he liked.

After dinner, Stiles drove Emma back to her house. The car rested in front of her empty driveway as the two of them sat in it in silence.

"Thanks for everything, Stiles," Emma mumbled to him, playing with her fingers in her lap. "The dinner was really good."

"Thank _you,_" Stiles replied. Emma looked at him with an adorable, puzzled expression.

"Me? For what?"

"For being you." Stiles undid his seat-belt and reached over to Emma. He took her neck into his hand and kissed her. Emma immediately responded, letting out a soft whimper and their lips slowly danced. He pulled away quickly, cautious to make sure she didn't feel too uncomfortable. However, he was glad he could actually kiss her now- not just wish for it. He settled back into his seat, watching her unreadable face. She just smiled at him.

"Thanks." She planted her face into her palm, laughing embarrassingly, "_Thanks_? I'm such a dork."

"Yeah, but you're my favorite dork," Stiles replied to her. Emma laughed and nudged his shoulder. She unbuckled her seat-belt and grabbed her things off the floor of the car.

"I guess I'll see you around, then," Emma casually shrugged. Stiles chuckled, a bit sad they were departing.

"Yeah, whatever," he sarcastically mocked, following her lead. She gave him an adorable smile and exited the car.

After getting home much later than his father expected, Stiles reviewed his notes for Friday's test- something he never pictured himself doing- and went to bed.

The next day, Stiles was eager to see Emma again. As he sat in English class, conversing with Scott, his eyes immediately ran to Emma as she walked into the classroom. She wore a tan jumper, which radiated her wide, chestnut eyes perfectly. It was slouched to the side, exposing Emma's naked shoulder, which made Stiles' blood boil. To his dismay, she didn't look to his direction but just plopped in her seat, wearing a neutral expression. He considered texting her, but decided against it. As the lunch bell rang, Emma was quick to leave the classroom, carrying all her things. Stiles was, at the least, puzzled. He soon asked Allison if Emma had talked to her, which Allison replied to with a head-shake 'no' and a baffled expression.

After an uneventful lunch where Emma was no-where to be seen, Stiles sat in his seat in Biology, sadly looking over at Emma's empty chair, hoping she would walk through the door. The bell rang. Emma skipping? It wasn't like her. She had to be late. 5 minutes passed. 10 minutes. Stiles sat in his seat, hearing the teacher's monotone voice. He tapped his pencil against the empty paper in front of him, leaving small grey scuffs behind. He looked back up to Mr. Harris' blank expression as he spoke to the class. From the corner of his eye, Stiles noticed Emma rapidly walking into the classroom.

"Miss Landson, how nice of you to join us," Mr. Harris croaked. Emma slid into her seat, giving Mr. Harris a forced smile.

"Sorry," she whispered, embarrased. Stiles looked at Emma's profile to see reddened eyes and puffy cheeks. Emma rested her hand on her face, trying to conceal her obvious distress.

"Hey," Stiles whispered. Emma lifted her face from her hand and quickly glanced at Stiles.

"Hi." She turned her gaze back to the front of the class.

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked, leaning towards her. Emma dropped her hand to lie on the desk. She stared down at her desk and deeply exhaled.

"No," Emma replied in a raspy, soft voice as she shook her head, "I'm not."


	22. Let Me Be Here For You

_Thank you so much for your patience. I have been 'posting' chapters- I have no idea what happened, but they actually were not getting posted. I was wondering why there weren't any reviews, so, eventually, I just stopped. I just recently realized that I did not fully pulish the chapters. I'm so sorry, guys. I hope I still have some readers out there._

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles quickly placed his hand over Emma's. What was wrong? More importantly, how could he make her feel better? Emma turned her palm up to grab his hand and leaned away from him, once again facing the front of the classroom. Stiles mirrored her movements. Mr. Harris spent the next 40 minutes talking over an uninteresting powerpoint presentation. Stiles constantly glanced at Emma, worried as she scribbled notes down in her notebook. As Mr. Harris drawled on, Stiles felt deep sadness and disappoinment, as he felt he was failing to make Emma happy. There she was, the frown on her face looking permanent, and he couldn't do anything about it. He felt utterly powerless. After assigning a dismal amount of questions for homework, Mr. Harris finally silenced and sat at his desk, probably plotting for ways to make his students' lives worse.

"Emma," Stiles whispered to her.

"I like how you say my name," she replied as the corner of her mouth curled up into a smile, "It's strange- you pronounce it like there's three 'm's." Stiles felt better as he saw her frown disappear.

"Isn't there?" Stiles joked. Emma dipped her head, looking appreciative. His eyes met with hers. They looked different. Pink and sorrowful. Stiles swallowed, unsure of whether or not to ask her what was wrong. "I'm here, okay?" he finally decided on, not wanting to force her to tell him what was on her mind.

"Thanks," Emma whispered. She turned back to her work. Stiles sighed and did the same. Displeased that there was so much silence between them, Stiles leaned over to Emma to begin a conversation. She beat him to the chase.

"How are you doing in that awful video game?" Stiles smiled.

"Beating a level everyday," he boasted, "Sometimes two a day." Emma giggled.

"Really living the life," she joked. Stiles couldn't help but smile to see her feeling joy.

"You know you like the game, you're just afraid to admit it."

"You got me," Emma snapped her fingers and bit her lip at the end of her sentence. He lovingly looked at her, yearning to kiss her lips. Her chest rose and descended with every short breath she took. She took her free hand and subconciously played with the silver bracelet on her small wrist. "I'm really bad at hiding things, aren't I?" She forced a chuckle. Stiles figured it was an attempt to appear happier.

"I see it as a quirk," he answered her. Emma silently smiled back at him.

"Test tomorrow," she exhaled, dropping her pencil down onto her notebook. At least she was talking. "Do you have practice _every_ day after school?" Stiles wondered if she asked just to make small-talk or maybe because she wanted to spend time with him.

"Yeah," Stiles replied, "Not that_ I_ need it, I'm obviously amazing at lacrosse." Emma's sweet giggling made him laugh in return.

"I've created a monster," she mocked. Stiles grinned at her as she looked down at the desk. Stiles continued to stare at her as she continued to play with her pencil.

"Your unit test is tomorrow," Mr. Harris announced. Stiles didn't even glance over- the only thing he cared about at that moment was making Emma feel better.

"Before you came here, this one time in class, Mr. Harris slipped behind his desk," Stiles recalled, chuckling, "And I laughed so hard, I got sent to the office." Emma laughed, louder than he anticipated. She covered her mouth, in attempt to be quieter.

"I would pay to see that," she chuckled. Stiles snickered with her. Her eyes lit up as she laughed. She smacked her lips and looked at him silently. "Thanks," she whispered. Stiles gave her a quick nod, smiling back at her. Feeling successful, Stiles turned back to his work.

**Emma's POV**

Emma grinned at him- what seemed to be the first real smile she had all day. He really did make her feel better. Soon enough, the bell rang, signalling the end of the day. Emma quickly rose and collected all of her belongings. As she stood, she looked at Stiles. The sunlight streaming through the large classroom window hit his hazel eyes as she stood at the end of the desk. She remained motionless, unsure of her next move. She wished to stay, but knew that the more people saw her, the more they were going to ask what was wrong.

"I guess I'll see you later, then," was all she could say. She _did_ want to spend time with him- only him for now, in fact. But she feared of bringing him down. "Good luck at practice." Stiles nodded his head, looking at her as if he had a million more words to say to her. "What?" she asked, after a few seconds of him staring at her. Stiles shrugged to answer her question. Emma smiled at him one last time. "Bye." She turned and hung her head as she walked out of the classroom. As she walked through the busy corridor, Emma felt a large hand grasp her waist. She looked to her side to realize Stiles was holding her. They walked in comfortable silence. As they approached the dividing of the hallway they always seperated at, Stiles firmly kissed the side of her forehead and departed. Emma walked towards her locker, smiling.

"Emma, hey," she heard a feminine voice from behind her once she reached her locker.

"Hey, Allison," Emma replied once she turned to see the owner of the voice, "How's it going?"

"Good- where were you at lunch? We were all wondering.."

"Oh, I just- had lunch with my dad. Sorry, I should've told you," Emma explained, thinking back to her lunch with her father and regretting not informing Allison on her where-abouts, feeling inconsiderate.

"It's no problem," Allison waved a hand in the air, "Are you okay?"

"Honestly? No," Emma answered, biting her lip, "But, can I talk to you about it later?"

"Defintely," Allison nodded understandingly, "I'm always here- for anything." Emma gave her an appreciative grin. Allison waved good-bye and was on her way. She had such great new people in her life.

Emma left the school, escaping in the music blasting from her ear-buds. She walked home, eager to just lie in her bed and not do anything.

As Emma laid in her bed, listening to slow, acoustic melody her iPod was offering, she glanced down at the hard-wood floor and nothing else. She was sure her father was doing the same thing downstairs- just sitting there, motionless. Emma suddenly heard a rapid knock at her door.

"Yeah?" she called, her voice cracking. Emma sat up, her legs crossed beneath her and waited for her father to come in. It wasn't her father. Stiles poked his head from behind the door with a concerned expression.

"Stiles? What are you doing here?" Emma asked, thankful to see him, yet worried to let him see her like this. She definitely was not looking her most glamorous. Her hair was partly tied up, yet most of it was glued to her wet face and neck. Her eyes felt swollen and she had a giant sweatshirt and sweatpants hanging off of her body. She figured her mascara was smudged around her eyes.

"Your dad let me in." He took a pause. "Emma, you don't have to tell me what's wrong," Stiles muttered as he placed a small white bowl on her desk, "But you have to at least let me be here for you." He tapped the door to open completely. Emma hopped out of her position and jogged over to him. She threw her arms around Stiles' neck. She held on to him tightly, inhaling his familiar and comforting scent.

"Wait a minute," Emma pulled back to look at him, "What about practice?"

"I- I, um-," Stiles chuckled as his warm hand slid down her face.

"Skipped it?" Emma demanded. Stiles shrugged, pursing his lips and scratching the back of his neck. Emma bit her lip to hold back the words of repremand to him. She knew he didn't need that right now. Instead, she said what she really was thinking. "You are the most selfless person I have ever met, you know that?" Emma gazed into his hypnotizing eyes as she took his face into her hands. "Can't you get in trouble or-"

"It doesn't matter," Stiles muttered, looking down at the floor beneath them.

"What's that?" Emma asked, motioning her head to the bowl he placed on her desk.

"A mixture of powder and tiny noodles in hot water- some may say it resembles chicken noodle soup, actually," Stiles winced.

"You brought me soup?"

"It's been scientifically proven to make people feel better."

"Thank you," Emma meaningfully said. "Don't look at me- I look awful," she exclaimed, half-joking and half-serious. She buried her face in her hands.

"You're beautiful," Stiles whispered back, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Emma felt her chest warm as he said those words to her. The first time a boy had ever called her beautiful. She went up on her tip-toes and kissed his lips. As her arms rested on his firm shoulders, Stiles gripped her waist. Emma went back down on flat feet, searching his face. She looked at the small freckles he had scattered under his eyes- only visible when one was very close to him. "Come on," she whispered, grabbing his hand and sitting at the edge of her bed. Stiles sat beside her with a pensive expression. Emma took Stiles' warm hand in her lap and crossed her legs beneath her. She took a deep breath before the words she had been keeping in found their way out of her mouth. "Today.. October 9th.. would've been my sister's 13th birthday," Emma told him. Stiles looked at her with passion as tears began to form in her eyes.

"Oh, Emma," Stiles mumbled.

"I kept telling myself not to make it obvious, but I can't just pretend. Especially around you," Emma muttered to him. "I feel like I'm being so overdramatic; crying at school, being all quiet-"

"You're not- Emma, trust me, you're not."

"I just don't know how to get over it, Stiles," Emma confessed, "It's all I ever think about. Why? I just... I just keep asking myself. Why?"

"You're not supposed to know the answer," Stiles wisely replied to her, "I don't think anyone does." They sat in short silence.

"How do you always know what to say?"

"Believe me- you seem to be the only one that thinks that," he chuckled.

"You're perfect to me," Emma quickly told him, regretting the words as soon as they escaped her lips. She leaned close to him. Stiles wrapped his arms around Emma and held her. She felt her fear leaving her. The tears began to fall again. She sniffed and felt her body shaking as sorrow took over. With this, Stiles held her even closer. She felt safe- like he could never let go of her. Emma felt his hand slide down her side. He began to tickle her.

Emma squirmed and laughed, playfully hitting Stiles' chest. She escaped his arms and stood up, holding her arms out defensively.

"You better stop," she warned, chuckling, "Or else."

"Or else what?"

"I'll- I'll never help you study again," Emma crossed her arms over her chest.

"Aw," Stiles hung his head. He suddenly jumped out of his position began to tickle her sides again. Emma brought her hands to his chest.

"Stop!" she squealed, laughing. Stiles rested his hands on her hips.

"Fine.. for now," Stiles agreed. Emma looked into his warm eyes. She felt guilt rushing through her body, causing her smile to disappear.

"Emma, you're allowed to laugh," Stiles consoled her, as if knowing exactly what she was thinking, "You're allowed to be happy."

"I don't...," Emma was wordless, looking down at her hands that rested on his firm chest.

"That's what they would've wanted for you," Stiles whispered to her. Emma looked up at him, breaking the distance between them by turning head to kiss his soft lips. Stiles held her closer as they innocently kissed. Emma pulled back, once again staring into his eyes.

"I never checked if you're ticklish," she realized, cocking her head to the side. Emma flickered her fingers to his side. Stiles stared at her blankly, not affected at all, with a coy smile.

"Well, I'm not- so," Stiles answered, not very convincingly. Emma squinted her eyes in concentration, and brought her hands up to his neck. He chuckled, but wasn't nearly as affected at she was when he tickled her.

"Can I have some of that soup now?" Emma mumbled. Stiles smiled and scurried over to her desk. He snatched the bowl and handed it to Emma. Emma plopped down on her bed and he sat beside her.

"Thanks," she chirped. She rapidly placed the soup on her nightstand and bent over to tickle his feet. Stiles laughed loudly, kicking his legs away. Emma chuckled.

"Found your weakness," she sang, nudging him with her elbow. Stiles shook his head, defeated. She happily took the bowl of soup he brought her and leaned back. As she took spoonfuls of warm, tasty soup into her mouth, she thankfully looked at Stiles. "I was late for Bio. because I had lunch with my dad," Emma explained to him, "And it didn't turn out so well."

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked, concerned.

"My dad- he doesn't like admitting his sadness. He pretends like nothing is wrong all the time," Emma explained, looking down at the noodles on her spoon, "We got into an argument. I think we're both just... we're both going through a lot, and taking it out on eachother."

"Been there," Stiles replied, "My dad and I.. we never talk about it.. it's even weird talking about it now."

"It's like you're afraid to," Emma answered.

"Exactly!" Stiles exclaimed, placing a comforting hand on her knee, "Tell me about them." Emma continued to stare at Stiles. "What?" he chuckled, his dimples caving into his cheeks. Emma shrugged, smirking. She couldn't help but stare at him- he was utterly gorgeous. And sweet.

"My mom- she, she was.. amazing. And my little sister, Layla- she was such a little brat. But I loved her. She looked up to me so much, wanted to do everything I did," Emma confessed as tears formed in her eyes, "I loved them so much. I still can't believe- I can't accept what happened. I feel like it's some bad dream that I'll wake up from." They sat in silence. Emma stared down at the bowl of soup in her hand.

"You kind of remind me of my mom," Stiles mumbled to her, "You never judge. You're really bad at hiding your feelings-" Emma playfully kicked his leg, "And I- I don't know." Stiles shrugged, looking like he felt his words fail him. Emma put the nearly empty plastic bowl back on her nightstand and inched closer to Stiles, leaning her head on her shoulder.

"I'm really glad I met you, Stiles."

"Likewise," he mumbled back, resting his head on hers.

They spent the next two hours, enjoying eachother's company, talking about anything and everything. However, they were interupted by the blaring of Stiles' phone. It was his father, demanding to know where he was. "I stopped at Emma's," he calmly explained, "Sorry." The Sheriff eventually told Stiles he had to get home.

"I'm sorry, I have to go," Stiles told Emma, a little annoyed as he closed his phone shut.

"I understand," she replied, "Thanks for coming." Stiles chuckled, as if she was saying the silliest thing anyone could say. He kissed her forehead before he stood. She loved it when he did that.

She walked him to the door, realizing her own dad had fallen asleep sitting up on the couch.

"Seriously, thank you," she whispered, looking up into his hazel eyes as they stood in front of the door leading outside.

"Emma," he chuckled. His words began to fail him and he very slowly and softly met his lips with hers. Emma didn't object.

After Stiles left, Emma went back up to her room to review her Biology notes. Her heart sped everytime the thought of Stiles danced across her mind.

He truly was amazing.


	23. You What?

_Enjoy, lovelies._

**Emma's P.O.V.**

'_Good morning, beautiful_'. That text was the second thing Emma saw as she awoke that cool autumn morning, following the cieling, of course. She smiled as she read over the name of the sender on her cellphone. 'Stiles'. A little hesitant, she replied; '_Why, hello, handsome_'.

Reminded of the amazing night she had with Stiles, Emma felt elated. As if she was glowing.

After a light breakfast, Emma prepared herself for school. Black tights, a grey oversized sweater with a cinched brown belt, all thrown together with her classic leather boots and a cobalt blue scarf. Emma contently looked at her reflection as she patted on some make-up.

Emma left her empty house, with a sensation of sadness as she thought of her last conversation with her father. They fought. What else could they have done on a day like yesterday? Emma sighed, refusing to think of it all again.

When the time came, Emma walked into her second period class, acknowledging Allison, who was giving her a glowing smile.

"Hey, Allison," Emma chirped, dropping all her things on her desk.

"Hi," Allison replied, "You feeling better?"

"Yeah," Emma said, thinking she didn't sound too convincing.

"I have something to ask you," Allison said. Emma shuffled to the empty seat in front of Allison's desk and plopped down.

"Yes?"

"You still going to the carnival tonight?" Emma was slightly relieved Allison wasn't asking about Emma's mood yesterday. She uncontrollably smiled and quickly turned her head to look at Stiles. He was in his usual seat, already looking at her. Emma loved catching him looking at her.

"Yeah, I'd love to," Emma replied, looking back to Allison's friendly eyes.

"Great- I was thinking: all the couples just meet there?" Allison looked at Emma with a raised eyebrow.

"Couples?" Emma stuttered, a little taken back.

"Well, yeah," Allison said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Emma looked back to Stiles' direction. This time he was chatting with Scott, looking utterly handsome in his aurburn red shirt. Them- a couple? She liked that idea.

"Uh, yeah," Emma agreed.

"Great!" Allison exclaimed, "So just get Stiles to pick you up tonight- I was thinking around 6, but he can talk about it over lunch!" Allison quickly said as the owner of the seat Emma was occupying approched them.

"Sure," Emma nodded, getting up from the seat and smiling at the quiet girl who was waiting. The bell rang to tell them second period had officially begun. Emma smiled at Allison as she sat in her rightful seat. She turned again to look back at Stiles, whose gaze was fixed upon his cellphone. She smiled and turned to the front.

A few minutes later, Emma felt a vibration in her pocket. A text. From Stiles.

'_That is a nice scarf_'. Emma smiled and looked over at Stiles across the classroom, already grinning at her.

'_Thank you :) Hey, guess what?_'

'_What?_'

'_I'm scared!_'

'_Of what?_'

'_Two things- the test and the high rides tonight_.'

'_You have nothing to be scared about! a) you are a genius and b) I'm actually Batman and I will save you from the evil ferris-wheel_.'

'_You know; I think you're a little too awesome sometimes._'

'_Is there such thing?_'

"...groups of four," the teacher muttered to the class, "Go ahead." Emma turned to Allison, bewildered.

"What?" Allison giggled.

"What the heck is going on?" Emma whispered, pointing to the teacher.

"Group discussions. _You're_ not paying attention? What has happened to the world?" Emma giggled.

"Sorry." Emma noticed Stiles and Scott quickly appear to Allison's side. Emma beamed at the both of them.

"You ready to have a kick-ass group discussion on whatever book it is we're reading?" Stiles eclaimed. Emma giggled, a little too loudly. She couldn't help it.

"Let's do this," Emma said with the same enthusiasm. Stiles and Scott brought over desks so they all ended up facing eachother in a circle.

The bitter teacher came to the group and handed them a small slip of paper. "Discuss this and be ready to prove your point in 15 minutes."

"What if we don't agree with the point?" Emma seriously asked. The teacher looked at her with expressionless eyes. "Why does everyone hate me?" Emma sarcastically moaned as soon as the teacher left them with a snarl. She chuckled with the group. "Did that come out rudely? I didn't mean to be rude." She continued to snicker.

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles looked at a giggling Emma with a smile. She was so beautiful.

"Okay, so, our question is: prove that the character of Michael is, although expected at the beginning of the novel, not the antagonist of the story," Emma read off the slip. She smacked her lips at the end of her sentence and looked at a blushing Stiles.

Although it was difficult to be engaged in the conversation, Stiles tried his hardest to do his part in the assignment. After a representitive from some groups spoke, Emma presented their group's work. As her mouth moved with every word, Stiles continued to stare at her, mezmerized. He never expected to have such such a fascination for anyone. But there was something about her that just pulled him in and amazed him.

After Emma's tiny speech, she turned her attention back to him with a small smile. He gave her a thumbs-up. She giggled once again, habitually biting her lower lip. He so badly wanted to kiss her.

After the teacher spoke for the next twenty minutes, and to Stiles' pleasure, didn't think to move everyone back to their original seats, the bell rang.

"Yes!" Emma groaned, "Finally, I'm so hungry."

"Looks like Stiles is rubbing off on you, Emma," Scott snickered as the screeching of desk moving filled the classroom.

"What do you mean?" Emma giggled. Stiles curiously looked at his friend, a little nervous that he would somehow embarrass him.

"The dude's always hungry," Scott stated. Allison and Emma chuckled.

"What can I say? I like food," Emma mumbled, shrugging her shoulders.

"Understandable," Scott nodded. She gave Stiles a sweet smile. How was it that just by a smile, she made his heart pound in his chest?

After putting everything back in order, the four of them walked out of the classroom. Emma and Stiles walked side-by-side. As their arms swung with every step, their hands continued to touch. Stiles stepped closer to her. Emma picked up on his joke as they continued to purposely graze eachothers' hands as they walked. Emma's sweet laugh made him laugh in return.

"What are you two giggling about over there?" Scott teased from the other side of the line.

"You had to be there," Emma quickly replied, waving a passive hand. Stiles and her shared another laugh. They made it to the cafeteria and found a table. Stiles contently sat beside Emma as everyone else got settled in. Jackson and Lydia soon came by and sat on the other side of the table, beside Allison. Stiles was grateful he had Scott on the other side of him.

"Are we still going to that carnival tonight?" Allison asked the group.

"I'm down," Stiles nodded. He looked at Emma.

"Oh, me too," Emma said, soon after him. Lydia began to speak about the plans when Emma touched Stiles' arm and got closer to him. Stiles turned his head in her direction to find her mouth just by his ear.

"Could you pick me up to go tonight?" Stiles drew back to see her worried face.

"I would love to," he replied, chuckling. "Why do you look so worried?" She gave him a dead stare and raised her eyebrows.

"My dad might say no.. we _have_ been fighting a lot.. and well, the heights!" Stiles sympathetically smiled and patted her hand, which was still resting on his arm.

**Emma's POV**

"You don't have to go on the rides, Em," he consoled her with sweet hazel eyes, "Besides, I'm more of a 'winning-huge-stuffed-animals' kind of guy." Emma thankfully gazed up at him, admiring his amazing personality. "Things aren't going well with your dad?"

Emma looked over at the group to see them engrossed in their own conversation, unaware of Stiles' and her's serene discussion.

"No," Emma muttered, looking back up at him and noticing now both his hands held hers in her lap under the table. "My house is not really a fun place to be at right now."

"Oh, Em," Stiles whispered, squeezing her hands, "What kind of things do you fight about? What do you say?"

"I don't even know," Emma shook her head, "We just get so angry over everything- both of us. And we just take it out on eachother. I can say some mean things when I'm upset." She sighed and looked back up at his concerned expression. "I'm sorry I'm bumming you out with a-"

"You're not bumming me out," Stiles quickly protested, "It'd be bumming me out if you didn't tell me what's going on with you." Emma couldn't help but smile at him.

"I-" Emma quickly stopped herself, bewildered. Completely shocked. She was about to tell him she loved him. As if it was the most casual thing in the world. Wow, she loved him. She loved Stiles.

"You what?" Stiles interrupted her thoughts. He looked completely clueless to the fact that she was just about to tell him she loved him.

"I- I'm just," Emma stumbled over her words, "I'm just worried, that's all."

"Don't be," Stiles patted her hand. To Emma's relief, he didn't pick up on her fib. His warm hand stroked hers under the table.

"Emma, come with us," Allison called. Emma snapped her head across the table to see Allison waving her hand.

"With who? Where?" Emma chuckled, confused. Her and Stiles' hands slowly drifted apart from eachother.

"To buy food," Allison answered, swinging her bag over her shoulder and standing next to Lydia.

"But I have- okay, sure," Emma replied, shrugging. She smiled at Stiles and got up to momentarily leave with the girls.

After Allison got herself a taco and Lydia a salad, they returned to the chattering group of boys. Well, Scott and Stiles were chattering. Jackson spent the entire time on his phone.

They had a uneventful, yet entertaining lunch period. After her third class, Emma entered Biology, feeling anxious about the big unit test. She slipped in her seat and was glad to see Stiles stroll in.

"You look awfully calm," Emma remarked as he made his way to his seat beside her. His quick steps caused a breeze that came her way, smelling of his lovely scent.

"I'm trying to trick my brain into making me feel calm instead of the petrefied I'm actually feeling," he explained to her as he plopped his books down on the tabletop. Emma giggled and brought her hand to his firm back and rubbed it lovingly.

"You'll do great, ya hear?" she told him. Stiles looked over to her, his hazel eyes giving her a look of appreciation. She took her hands back into her lap and interlaced her fingers. "You have nothing to be worried about."Stiles gave her a dashing grin and sat up. "It hasn't even started and I want it to be over with." Emma chuckled and rested her elbow on the table, then rested her head in her hand. The bell rang and Mr. Harris wasted no time with handing out the tests.

The period went by quickly for Emma. She felt comfortable with her answer for nearly every question and put her pencil down with five minutes to spare. She looked over at Stiles for the first time since the test started and saw him hunched over his test, his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth in concentration, writing rapidly. She giggled and turned her attention back to her test paper. Mr. Harris came around to collect the test as soon as the bell rang, signalling the end of the school-day.

Stiles gave his test to the expressionless teacher with a tight-lipped grin. Once he had it out of his hands, Stiles lowered his head down to the desk and sat there, motionless. Emma chuckled and stood up and collected her things.

**Stiles' POV**

Exhausted and still hunched over the desk, Stiles felt Emma's familiar hands on his shoulders. She lightly caressed them as she softly giggled.

"It's over," she happily whispered. Stiles sat up from his position and turned around to see her standing there, with a sweet blushing smile.

"Just like that? It's over?" he joked with a serious face. Emma caught on to his sarcasm and shrugged.

"Well, yeah, can you blame me?"

"I thought we had something here."

"Yeah," Emma placed a hand on his cheek, "You thought that, didn't you?" Stiles erupted with laughter and put his hand over hers. Her hand slid back to her side to support the books she was carrying. "Hey, you're not one to discuss the questions on tests right after the test is over?"

"God, no, I hate when people do that," Stiles shook his head.

"I know, right?" she exclaimed, playfully hitting his shoulder, "I'm sorry." Stiles snatched his backpack off the floor and looked at her, puzzled.

"Why?"

"I keep touching you," she said between laughs, clasping her hands together.

"Hey, I'm not complaining," Stiles raised his eyebrows at her. Emma laughed- the sweet laugh that always made him laugh in return. He could feel himself blushing. He loved talking to her.

They walked out of the classroom after Emma politely wished Mr. Harris a good weekend, in which he merely grunted to.

"Seriously, every teacher hates me," Emma chuckled, biting her lip for the hundredth time. He loved when she did that.

"No, it's just, they all love me and it seems they hate you in comparison," Stiles sarcastically explained to her. Emma nodded with a sceptical smirk, clutching her binders to her chest. She looked down to the floor, a frown forming on her face.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Stiles asked, realizing their pace had slowed but not really caring.

"I'm just- not looking forward to going home. I'm sorry for bumming you out with this."

"Emma," Stiles stated, "You're not bumming me out. I already told you that." He playfully nudged her, causing a small smile to grow on her face. "I'm sure if you just talk to your dad, it'll be okay. You're good with being straightforward.. I just.. ignore the problem until it goes away," Stiles chuckled. Emma chuckled with him.

"I really hope I can come tonight, to the carnival," she sighed. Stiles placed an arm around her. He realized they truly looked like a couple now.

"I hope so, too," Stiles replied, "Hey, admit it- you would be a _little_ relieved if you couldn't go." Emma looked at him with a grin.

"You're right," she giggled, "But only a little. I really do want to go." Stiles felt the hand on her shoulder being held by her hand. "Thanks, Stiles." He loved hearing her say his name. "You're great. And don't you dare deny it." Stiles felt blood rush to his face as he strolled down the hallway with her. They reached the fork in the hallway, being nearly swallowed by the massive crowds of students. "I'll text you once I know if I can go or not," Emma nodded.

"Be as persuasive as you can possibly be," Stiles responded, crossing his arms over his chest, saddened by the thought that they had to separate now.

"I will," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "See you."

"See you," he replied. They both stood across from each other, motionless.

"I could be wrong, but I think people are supposed to go their separate ways after they say goodbye," Emma told him, her dazzling brown eyes looking into his.

"I'm not sure that's true," Stiles replied.

"Right- I might have to check my facts on that one." Stiles chuckled and pulled her into a hug. Her head fit perfectly under his chin. He could smell the sweet vanilla scent of her hair as he hugged her.

"Bye bye," she chuckled once they pulled away from the hug. Stiles grinned and stepped back as she stepped back. They shared one last laugh and went their separate ways.

**Emma's POV**

Emma opened the front door to her home and heard shuffling in the dining room. She plopped her backpack at the bottom of the staircase and kicked her shoes off after closing the door behind her. She went into the dining room, a little nervous, to find her dad staring down at documents sprawled over the table.

"Hey, dad," Emma's voice sounded so quiet coming out of her mouth as she stepped towards him with her hands clasped together. Her dad looked up to her and gave her a small grin. She sat in the chair beside him and swallowed hard. "I really hate that we're fighting. We never fight."

"I know, Em," her father shook his head and massaged the bridge of his nose, "I'm not happy about the way our last conversation went." Emma thought back to the near scream-fest they had the previous day.

"I'm sorry I was being such a brat," Emma mumbled, "I realize I was being very rude to you for no reason." It was hard for Emma to say sorry sometimes. She only said it when she really meant it. Emma anticipated her father to apologize, but knew he never really did say sorry. It was obvious to her, though, when he was.

"It's alright, Em," he nodded to her, "I wasn't exactly Mr. Sunshine either." There it was. His apology. Emma grinned.

"I'm glad this is over," Emma told him, "It's been bothering me all day."

"Me too," Mr. Landson chuckled, "I doubt this is what they would want for us." She instantly knew he meant her mother and little sister. Emma nodded in agreement, feeling a bitter-sweet contentment.

"How was your day?" she asked, rising from her seat and going to the kitchen, her next question bubbling up inside of her.

"Stressful, to be honest," he answered, "Yours?"

"Same," she replied, kneeling against the counter and playing with the orange in her hand, "There's this carnival-type thing tonight that I want to go to tonight." She instantly felt guilt, worried her father might have interpreted her wanting them to be on good terms again as just a way to have permission to go out. Thankfully, he didn't.

"Where? Who do you want to go with?"

"Some car dealership. McDowan's, I think. Everyone's going- Allison, Lydia.. Stiles offered to pick me up," she mumbled.

"You sure are spending a lot of time with that boy," Mr. Landson remarked. Emma awkwardly shifted her view to her feet. She was not used to talking about boys with her father. Her mother handled that stuff.

"Yeah, I am," she chuckled, "His dad's really nice, isn't he?" Mr. Landson chuckled and agreed. Emma announced shortly after that she was going to her room to do homework. She did go to her room and eagerly texted Stiles.

'_I'm allowed to go. Pick me up at 6?_' She received a text shortly after she pulled out all her school work.

'_Yes! and yes_'. Emma smiled and tossed her phone onto her pillow, getting started on her work.

Once 5:40 hit the clock, Emma began to get ready for her 'group-date'. She changed into black jeans and a thick blue sweater. She clipped some strands of her hair back and was ready to go. Stiles arrived right on time. She scattered down the stairs, grabbing her handbag and shouting goodbye to her dad. Emma slipped on a pair of boots and swung open the door to see Stiles standing there, ready to knock on the door.

He looked dashing in his new wardrobe. She couldn't understand how he could make a plain long-sleeved shirt look stunning. The deep purple somehow made his hazel eyes stand out even more. He had his classic goofy smile painted on his face, presenting his seemingly perfect teeth.

"Let's go before my dad makes this unnecessarily awkward, yes?" Emma mumbled to him, closing the screen door behind her. She stepped down to his level, her height dropping significantly. She closed the heavy door, blocking all sight of inside the house.

"Glad to see everything turned out okay," Stiles nodded. She admired that he wasn't one to say 'told you so'. They stood as they did in the hallway, just looking at each-other without movement. Emma was just so mesmerized by his charm, sometimes, she literally felt stuck when she looked at him.

"Me, too," Emma replied. He grinned at her, his adorable dimples caving into his cheeks. She finally regained composure and took a slow step towards his Jeep in the driveway. They walked side-by-side towards it. He scurried to open the door for her. Emma loved his chivalry and happily went into the car, saying thank you. They soon zoomed out of her street.

She was going to have a relaxing, uninterrupted night with her friends. Everything would be alright. She winced at the thought of something bad happening. ruining their night. But she shrugged it off. She was just being paranoid.. right?


	24. I Know Some Who Would Say That

_Thank you for being so patient. Appreciate the reviews! Enjoy._

**Emma's POV**

"I listened to some more Ghosts of Detour," Emma mentioned, thinking back to a few nights ago alone in her room.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, I really love them," Emma chirped. Stiles looked over to her with a dazzling and approving smile.

"I'm glad," Stiles replied, "We should see if they're having a show anywhere near by sometime soon." Emma grinned, glad he wanted to spend time with her.

"Agreed," she looked over to his profile, seeing his dimples once again. "You know, I love your dimples." Stiles blushed. She realized he was embarrassed, but she did love to see him blush.

"Well, I love your smile," he replied. Emma giggled.

"Listen to us, all mushy," she nervously paused, "You know, some may say this is what couples do."

"Some? Which some say that?" he teased.

"I know some who would say that," she answered, being as equally playful.

"Hmm," Stiles looked over to her as they stopped at a red light, "I _do_ think 'Stiles' girlfriend' is a good title for you," he nodded. Emma's heart nearly leaped out of her chest. The butterflies in her stomach were not calming down.

"I think so, too," Emma said back, too smitten to come up with a clever reply, "Some may even say Facebook official."

"Whoa, now that's a little too fast for me," he sarcastically exclaimed. Emma playfully and lightly back-handed his chest. "Hey, no abusing the driver!" Emma was glad he was comfortable enough to tease her and chuckled. As she watched him lick his lips, she realized they hadn't kissed all day and had an insatiable craving to. She watched him as the setting sun glowed onto his face. His freckles were adorable to her. Afraid to be caught practically staring at him, Emma decided to turn her attention to her phone. She confirmed that they'd be meeting everyone else in the parking lot with Allison and continued to fiddle around on her phone.

"Could you do me a favour and find the Ghosts of Detour CD somewhere in that massive pile of junk underneath your feet?" Emma chuckled and began to search for the CD. After finding it, they listened to the mellow tracks on the CD and made it to the park. As Stiles parked his Jeep, Emma spotted Allison and Scott waiting for them.

Emma stepped out of the high Jeep and greeted Allison with a wave. Allison waved back. Stiles made his way around to Emma and they began to walk side-by-side to their friends.

"Right on time," Alison praised, looking down at her cellphone. They kept up conversation as they waited for Lydia and Jackson. The couple eventually showed up, neglecting to apologize for their tardiness. Allison didn't seem to mind.

"Let's go," Allison enthusiastically announced.

"Hey, Scott, I think I just saw a clown," Emma teased. Stiles chuckled as he walked close to her.

"Don't even joke about that," he laughed shakingly. Allison interlaced her arm into his and leaned on his shoulder, giggling.

They entered the carnival- the sounds of electronic games and laughing crowds draining out all conversation. Emma looked at Stiles, who was still by her side, gazing at the lights of the enormous rides ahead of them.

"Cotton candy," he announced, pointing. Emma chuckled and wrapped a hand around his firm upper arm.

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles felt Emma's hand go around his arm and strained to flex. He hoped she hadn't realize his attempt to impress her.

As they approached the line for the cotton candy stand, Emma took back her hand to search in her handbag. Stiles noticed another teenage boy he didn't know look Emma up and down with a hungry expression passing by. Stiles quickly moved beside her, gripping his arm around her waist.

"What's up?" Emma asked, surprised by his strong affection.

"Nothing," Stiles muttered, glaring at the other boy. He turned over to look at Emma, smiling. He felt so protective over her- she was _his_ girlfriend. The boy glared at Stiles and passed. Stiles supressed a smile.

"Okay, everyone, pick out your favourite colour," Emma announced after they shortly made it to the front of the line. Stiles grinned at her friendliness and knew better than to argue with her and deny her kindness.

Lydia and Jackson shared a big clump of blue cotton candy, as did Allison and Scott. Stiles gladly took a pink mound of the fluffy candy as Emma placed the money on the counter.

"Thanks, Emma," Allison said from behind her.

"No problem," Emma grinned back at her.

"I get that you're rolling in money, but you don't have to rub it in our faces," Stiles muttered to her as they walked away from the stand.

"I am just really happy with the fact that I'm a billionaire," Emma replied, "No, this trip to the cotton candy stand is just postponing us going on that ferris wheel over there." Stiles let out a hearty laugh and put his arm over her shoulders. He loved how they understood eachothers' sarcasm. Stiles shoved the cotton candy in Emma's face, causing her to squeal and push him away. They laughed as she licked up the cotton candy around her mouth.

"Look at these two love birds," Scott teased. Stiles didn't miss a second to give Scott a glare.

"Chirp chirp," Emma muttered with a smile. He turned to see the candy on the tip of her nose.

"Hey, let's go on the ferris wheel!" Allison pointed at the ride. Stiles snickered and looked at Emma, who was already shaking her head and laughing.

"I can do it," she mumbled. Stiles chuckled and wiped the small amount of cotton candy off her nose with his thumb and brought it to his mouth. She took a bit of the fluff of the mound he was holding and chewed on it, still looking concerned.

"You don't have to be worried." She smiled up and her hand found its way to his. They interaced their fingers and smiled at eachother. She contently took another piece of cotton candy. Stiles walked through the crowds with the group, proudly holding Emma's hand. He saw Lydia a little shocked to see them holding hands.

After they stopped at a ticket booth, Stiles purchased tickets for everyone, following Emma's kind example.

**Emma's POV**

"Thank you," she said as he handed her the tickets. They made their way to the line of the ferris wheel. The group walked over to the end of the line. Lydia pulled Emma beside her, next to Allison.

"You and Stiles are so cute together," Lydia whispered, smiling. Emma smirked and looked over to Allison, who was nodding.

"Thanks," Emma said, caught off guard by Lydia's kindness. She had expected Lydia was upset with her for some reason due to her silence, but realized it wasn't so.

"I totally called it! Didn't I, Allison? I called it. When did this little love story begin?" Lydia curiously asked. Emma looked over to Stiles, who was pre-occupied in his conversation with Scott as they watched the enormous ride ahead of them.

"I- I don't really know," Emma thought about it.

"It was love at first sight, wasn't it?" Lydia suggestively nudged, "That's what happened between Jackson and I."

"I didn't know you were so sappy, Lydia," Emma chuckled.

"Just saying; I know love when I see it," Lydia remarked, pulling out her lip-gloss and running it over her lips. Emma giggled once more.

"You _are_ cute together," Allison whispered.

"Thank you, Allison," Emma replied, "So are you and Scott."

"Thanks," Allison said, "Oh, how was that test today? I overheard Stiles freaking out about it." Emma chuckled.

"It wasn't too bad," she responded, "Looking at this ferris wheel makes that test feel miniscule." Allison giggled. "I'm still glad I came, though, thanks for the invitation."

"You're welcome," Allison told her, "I swear- you are the most polite person I've ever met." Emma humbly smiled.

"It's our turn!" Lydia squealed, grabbing Jackson by the hand and running past them. Allison gave Emma a surprised expression and followed Lydia with Scott by her side. Emma turned to see Stiles rapidly step beside her. They walked past the gates and waited a while to be seated.

Once Emma scooted onto the cold metal seating, Stiles shuffled to sit beside her. The side of their legs were in full contact, causing Emma's heart to beat a little faster. Without a thought, Emma put her hand over his hand, which was resting on his knee. He was quick to respond and hold her hand. Even with a single touch, he made her feel so safe and secure. The ride began to move and they began to get higher.

**Stiles' POV**

They slowly mounted to the top of the ferris wheel. Stiles felt Emma's soft hand clutching on to his.

"Sorry in advance about the broken hand," Emma mumbled. Stiles laughed and stretched out his arm to cradle her. She snuggled up to him tightly and rested her head on his shoulder. Her other hand continued to hold his in her lap. He was so truly content in this moment. As the wheel began to slowly move, bringing them higher and higher, Emma brought her hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear. Stiles couldn't help but stare at his beautiful face. He raised his hand and grazed her chin. He led her chin so she would face him. Completely entranced in her big, brown eyes, Stiles leaned towards her and pressed his lips on hers. He was glad he could finally kiss her after his lengthy day of longing for her lips. Their lips slowly danced with eachother. To his surprise, Emma deepened the kiss and began to lick his lower lip. Stiles couldn't help but smile beneath the kiss. He felt her smile in return. His body reacted on his own and his lips began to seperate. Stiles pulled back, worried of making her uncomfortable.

He opened his eyes to see her looking up at him at biting her lip. He looked over at his friends and to his relief, no-one saw their little make-out session.

"You're definetiely making this experience that should be terrifying to me good," Emma told him, lightly tapping the tip of his nose with her fore-finger. He realized that they were being extremely corny, but it truly did not bother him. He looked into her warm brown eyes and smiled. Even though they had just assured that they were a couple, even though she told him she had feelings for him- part of him wouldn't believe it. As he looked at her silently as she gazed over the park, he wondered why a girl like her would like a guy like him. Even when they kissed, it felt like their first. Every kiss made him so nervous- made the butterflies in his stomach fly around even faster and his palms even sweatier. He held her as they sat in a comfortable silence.

"Is that vanilla?" Stiles asked as the scent of her hair was carried by the light autumn breeze, "I've always wondered."

"My shampoo?" Emma giggled.

"Yeah."

"Yes, it is vanilla," Emma replied, "Good nose."

"Thought so. Yes, many people do complement my smelling skills," he answered. She laughed. He loved having someone laugh at his dorky jokes. More importantely, he loved hearing her laugh. "Are you cold?" he worringly asked, running his hand over her thick cotton sweater.

"Aw," she giggled, "No, I'm fine, thank you." She paused. "Hey, you know what I realized?"

"What?"

"Couples have to have cheesy pet-names. It's just a rule," Emma matter-of-factly stated to him. He smiled at her, more than thrilled to hear her call them a couple.

"Do they? Hmm," he stroked his chin, "What could I call you?"

"I'll call you Rupert," Emma stated.

"_Shhh_," Stiles shushed, bringing his hand to her smiling mouth.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said between laughs, "I just can't get over what an amazing name that is. I think it's so cool knowing a Ru- someone of that name." Stiles ran a hand over his short hair and exhaled.

"I need to know an embarrasing fact about you," Stiles told her.

"Okay, let me think," she replied, "Well, I kissed a boy on the cheek in first grade and he started to cry. Is that embarrasing?" Stiles couldn't help but erupt in laughter. To his relief, she was laughing, too.

"Why did you kiss him?"

"I remember really liking the colour of his shirt."

"So, he deserved a kiss for that?"

"It made perfect sense to me at the time," Emma laughed. Stiles nodded.

"Why did he start crying?"

"I guess he was embarrased that the girl that wore purple winter boots every day of the year liked him," Emma chuckled.

"Purple winter boots?"

"Hey, I loved those boots," Emma defended. Stiles shook his head, loving every second with her. Learning more about her made him like her even more with every word she said.

"That's very interesting," Stiles replied, patting her hand. Just then, the securing bar rose up.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," Emma announced. Stiles chuckled and was sad to have to stop holding her. They got off the rides and met the rest of the group at the exit of the ride.

"What a wild ride," Jackson sardonically mentioned.

Before Stiles could reply, he heard a ringing. Emma reached for her handbag. "I'm sorry," she grimaced. Stiles scoffed and sarcastically looked at his watch. She giggled and answered her cellphone.

"Hello?... What?" her voice began to sound frantic, her breath quickening, "I'll be right there." She slammed the phone shut and threw it in her handbag. "I have to- I have to go." Feeling his heard pound in his chest, Stiles searched Emma's face for an answer. "It's my dad," she said, her voice shaking as she looked over to him with saddened eyes, "He's in the hospital."


	25. This Isn't Your Fault

**Stiles' POV**

"The- the hospital?" Stiles echoed. Emma stared back at him with wide eyes. He saw her tears building. He hated seeing her cry. "Let's go then!" he frantically said, taking her by the small of her back and wallking rapidly. He heard Emma's short breaths over the roar of other people speaking and screaming and the beeps and dings coming from the rides stretched out over the parking lot.

They ran at the same pace towards his Jeep and quickly got in. He slammed the door behind her and had never been so fast to start the car.

As they sped down the empty road, Stiles' hands trembled as they lay over the steering wheel.

"Oh God," Emma's words were muffled as her face was dug in her hands, "What happened to him? What happened?" Stiles swallowed hard, hating seeing her in so much agony. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, frustrated with the helplessness he was feeling.

All of a sudden, a shadowy figure appeared in front of the Jeep. Emma screamed as Stiles nailed the brake petal to the floor and jerked his steering wheel to the right. The screeching of the wheels against asphalt was nearly deafening.

**Emma's POV**

Emma pulled open her heavy eyelids. She heard a systematic beeping to her right and shallow breaths to her left. Staring at the white cieling above her, she attempted to figure out where she was. Her head as in agonizing pain, her right arm was numb and her sight, blurry. The hospital. That's where she was.

As her sense of touch slowly came back, she could feel a weight on her left wrist. She looked over to see a head with short, brown buzzed hair resting on his hands that lay on Emma's wrist. Stiles.

"S-Stiles?" her voice sounded undesirably groggy. His head popped out of his position. His hazel eyes searched her face. As her vision sharpened, she noticed bruises behind his glossy eyes and a bandaged cut on his lower cheek, along with other scratches.

"How do you feel? Are you okay?" Emma reached out to touch his face, but the sharp pain in her right arm stopped her half way. She groaned as it dropped back down. Stiles gasped, nearly trembling as he inspected her arm.

"Said the girl in the hospital bed," Stiles sarcastically muttered. Emma chuckled, turning her other hand that rested by her side up and offering it to Stiles. He delicately placed his hand over his and stroked it with his thumb. Emma's memory came back to her in chunks. An accident.

"How long have I been here?" she asked, barely able to understand herself.

Someone charged through the door, their speed nearly causing a breeze. Stiles' hand jerked away from Emma's. Her father stood there, fists clenched and with a worried expression.

"Dad, before you say anything, I am fine," Emma's voice turned into a whisper. She realized how worried he must've felt. He had already lost his wife and youngest daughter in a car accident. She felt her heart drop. "Wait- are _you_ okay?" Emma's head began to ache.

"Am I okay?" her father asked in disbelief.

"You were- you were supposed to be here," Emma muttered. Her father's eyebrows shadowed over his eyes in confusion.

"What?"

"Emma got a call that you were in the hospital," Stiles spoke. Emma was grateful he was there to translate. "That's why were were rushing to get here."

"It's a little ironic," Emma couldn't help but giggle. Emma's father was not amused.

"I- I was here, but nothing happened to me," her father explained, coming to the end of the bed and resting his hands on the plastic frame, "We were called in because of an animal attack. Who called you?" Emma lay in silence.

"I don't know," she whispered in realization, "The guy- the guy just said that you were in the hospital and I kind of.. I kind of lost it."

"Well, what happened?" he said, clearly staring at her bruised arm.

"We- we were just on our way over here," Emma explained with a shaky voice, "And, I don't know, it just happened in a flash- this thing just popped out in front of the car."

"Who was driving?"

"It doesn't matter who was driving, dad," Emma answered, a little frustrated, "It isn't our fault. I don't know what jumped out on the road, but we tried to avoid it.. and that's all that I remember." Emma sighed. "After moving here, my life has had more drama in one week than it has.. ever," Emma mumbled, feeling a smile pull on her lips. Her father unpleasantly shuffled in his stance and crossed his arms. He shot a death stare at Stiles. Emma couldn't imagine how intimidated Stiles must've felt. She didn't like seeing her father like this- she couldn't fathom being in Stiles' place right there. "Can I get out of here, please?" Emma shuffled to sit up but was stopped by Stiles' firm hand on her shoulder.

"You really shouldn't move so fast," he consoled. Emma bit her lip, nervous of what her father would think of Stiles' affection. She began to wonder about his views on their relationship.

"What do you mean by thing? Was it an animal that jumped out?"

"I- I don't know," Emma mumbled, looking over at Stiles, who was examining her face with his glistening, hazel eyes. He swallowed hard, almost like he had something to say but didn't want to say it. "Stiles?"

"I don't know, either," he glanced down at his lap.

"Alright," Mr. Landson stepped back, clearing his throat. Emma felt the tension in the room decrease a bit.

"I'll go tell a doctor you're up," Stiles shot out of his seat and went out the door.

"I'm trying to figure out who would call you and tell you that I'm in the hospital," Emma's father said, walking over to her and sitting by her feet on the bed, "And all they said was that I'm the hospital? Nothing else?"

"Nothing else," Emma replied, feeling like she was a witness in a crime he was investigating, "Could it just be someone working at the station- maybe they just wanted to let me know or something?"

"That wouldn't make sense," Mr. Landson snapped.

"You're not- you're not saying this is some kind of set-up, are you?" Emma mumbled. Her father looked over with an unreadable expression. "Dad, who would want Stiles and I to get into an accident? How would they know where we were? Why would they want to.. to kill us?" Emma felt her heartbeat quicken and her breath shortening.

"Emma, relax," her father soothed, placing a hand on her knee. "It's not-"

"Hello, there, Emma," a female voice chirped. Emma looked over to see Stiles coming through the door with a nurse, "How are you feeling?" Emma could see her father stand up.

"I'm okay," Emma answered, trying to act as relaxed as possible, "My right arm kind of hurts, but other than that, I'm fine." The nurse went over to Emma and lightly examined your arm.

"It's pretty badly bruised, I'll get you some more pain killers for that," the nurse answered. Emma listened to her, hoping she would tell her she could go home. "You don't have any broken bones or fractures," the nurse told her, looking down at a clipboard, "It took you quite a while to wake up, so we want to keep you in for observation for tonight." Emma sighed, telling herself not to argue.

"Okay," she agreed.

"I'll be right back with some food and water," the nurse calmly told her. She walked out of the room with a smile.

"I'm lucky nothing's broken," Emma smiled at her father. He still looked worried. The radio on his belt went off.

"Landson, we got a call, need you over here," the muffled voice said.

"Go, dad," Emma replied, "There's probably someone in much worse condition than I'm in needing an officer." Mr. Landson continued to stare at her with his hands on his hips. "Dad, seriously, I'm fine. You heard her- just some bruises." Her father sighed and walked over, planting a kiss on her forehead.

"I love you," he mumbled. It was strange to hear him say it outloud with someone else in the room. He walked out without a single glance at Stiles.

"I'm sorry he was being so.. not nice," Emma turned her head to look at Stiles. He rushed over to his old seat and sat to be in the same level as her.

"If I was him, I'd hate me, too," he replied. Emma shook her head.

"He doesn't hate you," Emma answered, "He just worries like crazy- that's where I get it from." Emma studied Stiles' face, scuffed by cuts and small bruises. "Are you in any pain?"

**Stiles' POV**

The only pain he was feeling then was the fact that a girl he cared so much about was lying in a hospital bed. It reminded him of his mother. The painful image of her weak self lying on the bed rushed back to him. His mother would be in so much pain, yet she looked at him with such hopeful, glowing eyes.

He was so angry. He could swear he felt a tear building up in his eye, but he refused to let it fall down his cheek. He couldn't understand how he could already care so much for her that he felt a bit scared and vulnerable. He had never let anyone else past the wall that he had built up for himself.

"No, I'm okay," he answered, forcing a smile, "So, what was the deal with your dad?"

"That's the problem," Emma answered, "We have no idea. I don't even know who called me. Why they would call me and say that my dad was hurt." Emma sighed, genuinely puzzled.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you, Emma." He sucked his teeth, so angry with himself.

"This isn't your fault, Stiles," Emma told him, clutching his hand. "What _was_ that.. thing?" Stiles raised his eyebrows and licked his lips as he looked down at the floor. He wanted to tell her the truth. But it was so risky.

"I-I don't know," Stiles lied, unable to look in her warm brown eyes as he was being dishonest.

"I know you well enough to be able to tell when you're lying," Emma told him. It was the first time he could tell she was frustrated with him. As if on cue, the nurse came back, carrying a tray.

"There's a bowl of soup and a bottle of water," she announced, expertly pulling out the tray attached to the bed and placing the low-grade food in front of Emma.

"Thank you," Emma said, polite as always.

"You're welcome, dear," the nurse said. She looked to Stiles' direction with sympathetic eyes, "I'm sorry, but visiting hours will soon be over."

"That's alright," he told her, "I'll leave when you need me to." He had his experience with sitting next to a hospital bed, dreading the idea of being told he had to leave. Yet, he was familiar with the system and accepted it. The nurse gave him a grateful smile and shuffled out of the room.

"You should eat," Stiles pointed to the bland bowl of soup. Emma sighed. He could tell she was trying her hardest to be patient.

"Stiles, please," Emma whispered, "I hate pretending like there's no problem." Stiles figured it was true that opposites attract. He was always one to push problems to the back of the mind and pretend they don't exist.

"What's the problem?"

"You're lying to me!" she half-shouted. Emma bit her lip and looked down, truly unhappy with the situation and herself. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm not normally like this." He knew that. He knew she was naturally kind and patient. But he could understand her frustration.

"I'm not lying." He felt disgusting decieving her like that. Of course he was lying. But how could he possibly tell her it was a werewolf that jumped out in front of the car? That it was a werewolf they saw in the woods that day? Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Why does it feel like you are?"

"I don't know," he shook his head. It was as if he felt that wall building up again, brick by brick. What could he possibly tell her to make her still like him? There were so many thoughts going around in his head. The fact that this experience reminded him of the bad memories he had involving his mother. The fact that his best friend was a _werewolf_ and he was expected to keep this secret and help him. The fact was,_ he_ was the one that needed help. Now more than ever.

"Please tell me what's going on," Emma asked him in a somber tone. Stiles looked up at her, seeing her undeniable frown. It nearly killed him knowing he was the cause of her sadness.

"I feel really guilty about this," he told her. Finally, something true coming out of his mouth.

"Stiles, nothing is your fault here," Emma told him, "It's not your fault at all." She had no idea how amazing it was to hear that. He had felt guilty for everything that went wrong recently. He hated feeling his emotions crashing down on him like this. He felt a buzzing in his pocket for the tenth time since they arrived at the hospital.

"You can get that," Emma told him, picking up the plastic spoon that lay before her, "They're all probably really curious about what happened." Stiles licked his lips and took out his phone from his pocket to see he had 5 missed alerts. "Just.. please don't tell anyone I'm in here." He obeyed her wish and replied to Scott, merely telling him Emma's dad was fine. He looked back up to Emma who was eating the soup.

"This tastes like hair," Emma giggled. Stiles chuckled, so glad he could smile. He was so glad that she wasn't one to stay mad for a long time. Not necessarily for his sake, but for hers. She spent more time happy than mad.

"Yeah, I remember that food tasting like crap." He mentally scolded himself. He reminded her of the fact that he had spent a great deal of time in the hospital when he was with his mother. He turned his gaze over to the window on the other side of the room. He felt Emma's eyes on him. As if she could read his mind, Emma turned her attention back to her food and strayed away from asking him about his mother. He was so relieved she could tell he wasn't up for talking about that part of his life at that moment.

"We ever going back to that hamburger place with the curly fries?"

"How does tomorrow sound? After you get out of here?"

"I'd love to," she beamed at him. He felt his heart get heavier as she smiled at him, thinking of how he was lying to her. He had told her things no-one else knew and she was so trust-worthy. Yet he couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth. He licked his lips, mentally telling himself to forget about it.

"You want some hair-soup?" she laughed, bringing the spoon of mustard-yellow soup closer to him. Without thinking, he jerked her arm away, causing her to spill the small amount of soup on the off-white blanket covering her. "Stiles!" she gasped, still laughing. They laughed in unison as he guided the spoon back to the bowl and folded over the blanket to conceal the stain.

"No-one will ever know," he dismissively waved his hand.

"I will," she replied, crossing her arms. He dreamingly looked at her as she supressed her grin. He leaned closer to rest his elbows on the side of the hospital bed.

"You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On whether or not you're going to kiss me," she simply stated. His pulse quickened. He loved the fact that she was one to tell people what she wanted. He happily accepted and stood up to reach her lips. He felt her soft, warm lips under hers. He pulled away, looking straight into her eyes. "Get me out of here," she chuckled, plopping her hands down on the bed.

"How does tomorrow morning sound?"

"Too late," she giggled.

**Emma's POV**

Emma continued to look into Stiles' hazel eyes, adoring the feeling he gave her. The feeling that everything would be okay. No matter how bad it could get, it would all be okay because he was there. "Isn't it weird how unpredictable life is?" she acknowledged, reminding herself of the course of the night. She then thought of how she came to this new city, unexpecting that she'd meet someone like Stiles.

"Yeah," he genuinely responded, plopping back down into his seat.

"Hey, thanks for getting me over my fear of heights," she told him, grinning. He smiled back at her.

"I care about you. A lot, Emma," he told her. She sensed his serious tone and swallowed. The boy she was so sure she loved, sitting there, looking so worried.

"Me too," she responded, nodding, fighting the urge to tell him she loved him. There were so many things she had the courage to say to him, but those three words seemed to refuse to come out of her mouth.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to go," the nurse's voice interrupted their comfortable silence. Emma looked over to the door to see the innocent-looking lady smiling at the two of them. She stepped out soon after.

Emma looked over at Stiles and shrugged her shoulders. His serious expression was washed away by a sweet smile.

"Sleep," he calmly told her, standing up and grasping onto her hand. The last thing she wanted right then was for him to leave her. Her heart ached as the feeling of safety he gave her was beginning to disappear as he planted a soft good-bye kiss on her cheek.

As he left without another word, Emma closed her eyes and sighed. She told herself that everything would be resolved tomorrow. She'd be out of this bed and Stiles would tell her the truth and everything would be okay.


	26. I've Tried

**Stiles' POV**

As Stiles awoke, feeling the morning sun's heat on his face, he groaned, unhappy his peaceful slumber was over and that he had the same problems he had yesterday. He quickly texted Scott to let him know he was coming over.

After realizing his father had already left for work, Stiles made a mental note to talk to him about the previous night and drove to Scott's. He walked out of the house, unhappy to see his Jeep so damaged. The right headlight was completely smashed. He sighed, figuring he should be grateful that that was the worst of it and that he was allowed to take it home. After taking one of the most careful rides Stiles had ever taken, he was soon looking at Scott's bedroom door and eagerly knocked on it. Scott quickly opened it, awaiting an explanation.

"We have a problem," Stiles uttered. Scott's eyebrows came together in confusion.

"What?" Stiles could tell Scott wasn't used to seeing his best friend so serious. Stiles stormed into Scott's room with his arms crossed. Scott shut the door behind him.

"Last night, me and Emma got into a car accident."

"Are you serious?" Scott declared.

"No, I'm joking," Stiles answered with a glare.

"Well, are you okay? Is Emma okay?" Stiles sighed and plopped down in his best friend's computer chair.

"We're fine- it's what jumped out in front of us that worries me." Scott sat on the edge of his bed, fingers intertwined, looking at Stiles with bewilderment.

"What jumped out in front of you?" he hesitated. Stiles exhaled deeply and rubbed his eyes.

"I'm sure it was a werewolf," Stiles said in a hushed tone.

"What?" Scott stammered, "You mean, like Derek?"

"I don't know, I didn't have my werewolf-identifying kit with me," Stiles grumbled, leaning back in the chair and staring at the cieling, "She saw it, Scott. She knows I'm lying when I say I don't know what it was."

"Well, you can't tell her, Stiles. Allison doesn't even know."

"That's because Allison comes from a family of werewolf-hunters!"

"Remind me her father literally wants to kill me, why don't you?"

"Would it be so bad for me to tell her the truth?"

"She would go running in the opposite direction, Stiles."

"I just-" Stiles queried, "It wasn't even a full moon! And why would a werewolf willingly jump out in front of a car? I keep trying to figure it out- did it mean to go out in front of _my_ car? Go after-" Stiles stopped himself. He didn't want to think about anybody _wanting_ to hurt him. Or worse, Emma. He couldn't be having a panic attack. Not another one. He crouched to look down at the carpeting beneath his feet.

"Stiles, just- just breathe, okay?" Scott recited. Stiles felt his heart thumping in his chest. "You're not a threat- why would a werewolf want to hurt you? It couldn't of been one, okay?" Stiles replayed the memory in his head- he could have sworn it was a werewolf. Were they after him because he knew? He groaned, choosing to believe Scott with some hesitancy.

"You're right," he nodded, "I'm freaking out for no reason. It's all- it's going to be okay."

**Emma's POV**

Emma followed her father into their home, her legs and eyelids heavy. She trailed up the stairs and collapsed in her bed on her back. Her arm was wrapped in a new bandage, throbbing with pain. She sighed, telling herself it could've been worse. Shortly after, she heard a buzzing. It was her phone, resting on her nightstand.

'_Hey, how are you?_' Emma half-smiled at Stiles' message and replied.

'_Good, thanks, how are you_?'

'_Good- but I would be great if I could stop by? :)_'

Emma gladly invited him over and informed her father about their guest. After 15 minutes of lying in her bed, relieved her arm was feeling better, Emma heard Stiles' quick footsteps up the stairs. She sat up in her bed, legs crossed, waiting for him to walk through the open door.

Stiles quickly came around the corner, carrying some paper bags.

"How are you feeling?" his voice alone gave her goosebumps. For a second, all she could do is smile as he stepped into the room. She got up and put her arms around him. He delicately hugged her back, acting as if she was extremely fragile.

**Stiles' POV**

"Better now that you're here." Stiles felt butterflies in his stomach. She pulled back, smiling at him. He smiled back at her, unable to explain how happy it made him that she liked him as much as he liked her. "How's the Jeep?"

"Oh," Stiles groaned, "The poor thing lost a headlight."

"Aw," Emma half-laughed. Stiles looked at her as she giggled. He loved feeling like he was listened to. For the longest time, he felt ignored. But not with Emma. She cared. "Stiles, you're doing that thing again when you just look at me and don't say anything."

"Sorry," he blushed, looking down at the carpet beneath them.

"I don't mind it, I just wonder what you're thinking," she grinned. He licked his lips. "That's not what I think it is, is it?" She pointed down to the paper bags he held.

"Depends on what you think it is," he teased. Emma chuckled and slid down to sit beside her bed and tapped the floor across from her. Stiles happily sat down across from her and looked at her. He took out two boxes, each containing a hamburger and curly fries.

"I don't think I could ever get sick of this restaurant," she told him, happily taking the box from his hands.

Emma took a bite of her hamburger and smiled at him as she chewed. Stiles saw a small blob of mustard on her upper lip and laughed. "What?" He rose to his knees and rested on his knuckles as he leaned towards her to both kiss her and clean up the mustard. He pulled back, looking at her as he licked his lips. "Hey, did you just steal mustard from me?"

"Take better care of your mustard," he smiled back at her. Emma laughed her usual heavenly laugh. Stiles plopped back onto his bottom across from her. He took a bite from his hamburger.

"I really appreciate this, thank you," she told him after she took a sip of her rootbeer, "You even thought of rootbeer."

"You're welcome," he answered, looking into her eyes, craving to kiss her again.

"So, how was your night? And morning?"

"Well," Stiles sighed, "I got home and just passed out."

"Car accidents tend to take a lot out of you," she chuckled. Stiles licked his lips and shook his head at her.

"I love how lightly you're taking this," Stiles told her.

"Why would I take it.. heavily?" she chuckled, "Could of been worse, right?" Stiles grinned at her optimism.

"True. Anyways, I visited Scott this morning, told him about our, uh.. adventure last night and went to get lunch for us," Stiles told her, "I know, breathtaking. You must be so jealous of my exciting life."

"Oh, I am," Emma told him, chewing on a fry, "How's Scott doing?"

"Good," Stiles sighed as he was reminded of what really happened last night. The guilt made his stomach drop.

After finishing their meals and throwing out the multiple wrappers, they sat on the edge of Emma's bed, facing eachother.

**Emma's POV**

"You wanna watch a movie?" Emma offered, "I have quite a collection in my basement." Emma suddenly burst out in laughter, along with Stiles. "That sounded _so_ creepy. Come to my basement, Stiles." Stiles laughed and took Emma's hand in his.

"Emma, I would love to go to your basement," he told her, chuckling. Emma smirked as she gazed into his hazel eyes, imagining kissing every beauty spot on his face.

They made their way down to the basement. Emma popped in the nearest DVD and scurried over back to the couch, pulled in by Stiles' inviting embrace. She cuddled up to him, inhaling the scent she had grown to love so much. Emma sighed, her arms around his form torso.

"What movie are we watching?" Stiles asked. Emma pulled up her legs and rested her chin on her knees.

"I don't know, I just put in the first DVD I found," Emma chuckled, slightly embarrased. Stiles relieved her with a snicker and tightened his arms around her.

**Stiles' POV**

As the beginning scene of the movie he'd already forgotten the title to displayed itself on the screen, Stiles held onto Emma tightly, cautious to not worsen the injuries she had gotten the previous night. Guilt rushed through his body.

"We should go to the movies," Emma mentioned, "Some scary movie. Are there scary movies out now?"

He looked over to her, the happiness of hearing her speak temporarily washing away his guilt. "I don't know. I gotta warn you, I'm not the best movie date. I hog the popcorn."

"Then we get two bags," Emma chirped. Stiles chuckled and gave her a peck on this lips.

"Then we can go," he answered. Emma smiled at him. He felt her arms tighten around his torso. He kissed the top of her head as she rested on his chest.

"Stiles," Emma whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Please tell me what happened last night." Stiles' heart sank.

"I- Emma, I," completely caught off guard, Stiles stammered over his words. Emma sat up to look into his eyes.

"Stiles, please," Emma pleaded, her eyebrows sinking, "What is it you're not telling me?" Stiles opened his mouth, but nothing came out. What could he tell her? The truth? No, he couldn't.

"Please," Stiles mumbled. He didn't know what he was asking for, he just wanted this conflict to go away.

"I've tried. I really have," Emma told him, looking down. "It's hurting me how you're not telling me. I thought we had something where we could tell eachother-"

"We do have something. Something really good," Stiles told her, tightening his grip on her hand, "That's why I'm not telling you anything." He whispered the last sentence, not sure if she heard him. He looked up to her glazed brown eyes. She looked so sad.

"Stiles, since my mom and my sister, I-" she choked, "I realized life is too short to leave things unsaid. What is it that you're not telling me?"

"Please, can we just forget this-"

"No!" Emma pulled her hand back to her chest, looking at him as if he betrayed her. He had never seen her so angry. "I can't just forget this. I- I don't feel like I can trust you."

"You can trust me, Emma! I've told you things I've never told anybody else. I feel so.. so whole with you," Stiles felt like his words were spilling out of his mouth. She had to know how much he cared for her. Why couldn't she just understand he wanted to tell her, he just couldn't?

She sighed heavily and looked down. They sat in silence. Stiles looked at her glazed eyes and felt an uncomfortable rush to his chest. He was not going to cry in front of her. No.

"I just feel like my life has been such a mess lately, and I need some clarity, okay?" Emma's tone went down to a whisper.

"What does this mean?" Stiles pleaded.

"I don't know yet," she whispered to him, "I just know I say things I don't mean when I get angry. Please, just- just leave me alone for now, okay?"

"I-" Stiles stopped himself. He stood up and walked out of the house. No matter how badly he just wanted to have Emma in his arms and kiss her, he knew that probably would never happen again.

She just broke up with him. He knew it. No matter how she worded it, she dumped him. He was angry at himself for disappointing yet another person in his life. Everyone eventually got tired of him.

He got in his car and just drove. Not sure where he was going or even how careful he'd be. With the tears in his eyes refusing to stop, he just drove.


	27. You Deserve More Than That

**Emma's POV**

Emma sat on her couch, regretting her words as soon as she heard the front door close. How could she be so obtrusive towards Stiles? She looked down at her lap as her chest rapidly rose and fell. She wanted to run outside and tell Stiles she was sorry and just be in his arms.

But she couldn't.

Trust was the most important thing to her. And no matter how good it felt to be in his arms, she still felt hurt at the fact that he was keeping something from her. She tried to forget about it, she really did. But why would he keep something like this from her? What was this secret?

She knew what it was. She saw what jumped out in front of Stiles' Jeep that night. It was horrific.

No, it was her mind playing tricks on her. It couldn't have been.. what she thought it was. It's impossible.

What she was sure of was that she didn't want to end things with Stiles. He made her so happy. He made her feel safe and warm. She was in love with him. This, she knew. She was never afraid to tell people how she felt- but this feeling, this scary, vulnerable feeling- it was too much to handle. And how could she possibly tell him she was in love with him when he couldn't even tell her what really happened the previous night?

Emma sighed, reaching for her phone with the purpose to call Stiles. She stopped herself. She knew that once he'd refuse to tell her the truth, she would get frustrated and say something she didn't mean. Like she always does.

She spent the day catching up on homework, but Stiles was in the back of her mind the entire time. She continued to almost contact him, but always convinced herself against it. She didn't want anyone to think of her as a weak, vulnerable doormat. He was keeping something from her- she didn't want him to think it was okay to lie to her like this.

After talking on the phone to a friend from back home, Emma laid in bed, listening to the band Stiles introduced to her. She drifted off.

Thankfully, Emma woke up early enough to avoid being late for school. She looked out to see rainy weather and slipped on black tights and a casual floral dress, along with a purple cardigan.

Emma nervously made her way to school. As she walked into her English class, she felt worried that as soon as she'd see Stiles, she'd run up to him and kiss him. Instead she rushed to her seat.

"Hey, how are you doing?" Allison looked at Emma with concerned eyes and Emma settled in her seat.

Emma shrugged, "Been better."

"Are you and Stiles okay?" Emma figured would hear something about the events of the previous night through Scott.

"I really don't know right now. We- we had this stupid argument," Emma sighed, "I hate conflict. I just want us to be back to normal."

"Then get back to normal."

"I want to be," Emma answered, "But.. I don't know, I guess it's easier said that done." Allison nodded understandingly. Emma sighed and could feel Stiles' eyes on her. She looked down at her lap, not allowing herself to look back at him. "It's going to be weird at lunch, so I think I'm going to-"

"I already have it planned. Just you, me, and Lydia. A girl's lunch." Emma looked at Allison with thankful eyes, "I told Scott already, I figured it'd be best until you and Stiles just.. figure it out."

"Thank you so much," Emma answered, "That's so considerate."

"No problem," she answered, "I get it. It would be way too.."

"Awkward," Emma finished her sentence for her.

"Yeah," Allison said back. Emma gave her an appreciative smile.

**Stiles' POV**

"They're talking about me, I know it," Stiles muttered to Scott as he watched Emma and Allison in conversation.

"You don't know that, Stiles," Scott assured him. Stiles sighed, looking back over to his friend. He couldn't help but feel a little bit resentment. It was because of Scott's secret that Stiles couldn't tell Emma the truth.

"I just want it to go back to normal," he scoffed.

"It will," Scott told him, "Dude, I can't remember the last time you were this upset." Stiles sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. He usually would keep quiet about when something was bothering him- who would want to listen?

All he could do was sigh and sink in his seat.

**Emma's POV**

After lunch, Emma walked to her next class with her heart nearly beating out of her chest. What could she possibly say to Stiles? She knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to tell him that he made her feel like no-one else ever had. She wanted to tell him she loved him and wanted to be with him.

The other voice in her mind fought back. He lied to her. He didn't trust her.

What if it really wasn't that big of a deal? He could tell her when the time came. Who cared about something so insignificant? She was happy with him, that's what mattered.

But he was hiding something. He wasn't honest. Emma continued to have a war with her thoughts as she walked into Mr. Harris' class. Stiles sat there, as if sensing her presence, and looked up. Their eyes met.

Stiles quickly diverted his eyes to look down at his desk. Emma swallowed hard and sat next to him. She tossed all of her things on the desk and crossed her arms. She looked over to see his uneasy expression, still looking down at the desk. She felt horrible. How could she yell at him like she did?

"Hey, I.." Emma began to speak but didn't know what to say. Stiles snapped his head in her direction, eager to hear her words. She sighed and looked down, so confused as to what to say. "I'm really sorry."

"You don't have anything to apologize for," his groggy voice replied. He looked at her with sad, hazel eyes. She inhaled his sharp cologne.

"I do," she insisted, "I was awful to you. I'm sorry, I react badly in the moment. I didn't-"

"No, you reacted the way any normal person would," he replied. She looked at him, pain in her chest.

"I'm still really sorry, okay?" She didn't know what this meant for them. Were they back together now? Was this just a fight? Did they even break up? She didn't want them to stop being together. He made her so happy.

She just wanted him to know she regretted her actions. She was glad he knew that it upset her that he kept things from her, but she didn't have to be so harsh. He was such a wonderful person, he didn't deserve to be treated like that. He deserved so much better.

She was rendered speechless. It seemed that he was too. He licked his lips for the hundredth time and looked back down at his desk.

"You really don't have to be," he answered. She could see how he blamed himself for everything. Why couldn't he just take the apology?

"I do, okay? Please, whether you accept it or not, I want to apologize," she told him. She pushed her bangs out her face and turned to face the front of the classroom.

She wished she could just kiss him.

**Stiles' POV**

He wished he could just kiss her. She had every right to be mad at him. Why did she have to apologize? It felt better when she blamed him. Of course it was his fault. She was put in danger because of _him_. How could she say sorry for something like that?

"How- how was lunch?" her voice interrupted his thoughts. He thought back. Sitting at a cafeteria table with Scott, trying to be his normal, enthusiastic self, but instead spending it picking at his sandwich. He hated being such a killjoy, but he couldn't help it.

"It was good," Stiles answered, "Yours?"

"Good," Emma answered, "I'm now fully informed on the ten different ways to wear a scarf, thanks to Lydia." She chuckled.

"_Ten_ ways? How is that possible?" Emma giggled sweetly.

"You have to see it to believe it," she laughed, "Lydia gave me a lot of tips, she's really nice." Stiles looked at Emma, feeling a deep admiration for her. Her brilliant chestnut eyes met his. Just for a split second, it felt like they didn't have that fight and were the way they always were. Her eyes darted to her clasped hands. She cleared her throat.

He wished he could tell her how much he missed her. And that he loved her. It had only been one day, but thinking of her then being reminded they broke up crushed him. Emma bit her lip, like she always did when she was uncomfortable.

They spent the next 40 minutes in silence as Mr. Harris spoke. Stiles kept looking over at Emma. Her eyes. Her lips.

Mr. Harris popped in a video and sat at his desk, yawning. Even he wasn't interested in the video.

"Look, even he isn't interested in the video," Emma whispered. Stiles looked at her with widened eyes.

"I was just thinking that," he mumbled back. Emma looked at him with her full lips in a smirk. Stiles brushed his hand over his coarse hair.

"Oh my goodness, what happened?" she gasped. He felt her soft hand gripping his forearm. His heart pounded.

"I have no idea," he chuckled, once he realized she was pointing to a cut.

"Stiles, be more careful," she whispered.

"I know, my looks are all I have." Emma snickered and playfully nudged his shoulder.

The bell rang. "Stiles," Mr. Harris exclaimed, "To my desk, please." Stiles sighed angrily at the fact that he and Emma finally seemed to be getting back to normal and the teacher had to interrupt it. The class emptied as Stiles made his way up to the front. Mr. Harris slid a paper over his desk to Stiles. Stiles looked down. It was the test they took last week. In red pen, a zero in a circle nearly covered his name.

"Zero? How did-"

"Stiles, comparing this to your other test scores and other people's answers, it's obvious that you cheated." Stiles felt more anger rising up in him.

**Emma's POV**

She was the last person to be leaving the class. She passed by Stiles and Mr. Harris, curious as to what they were discussing. She overheard Mr. Harris, "..you cheated." She stopped in her tracks.

"I swear, I- I didn't," Stiles answered.

"Stop lying to me, alright?" Mr. Harris' voice got louder. Emma looked back and saw Stiles looking down at the floor. She knew he could stand up to others, but never for himself. He would do absolutely anything for anyone he cared about- but for some reason, when it came to matters affecting him, he didn't fight back.

"Mr. Harris, I'd like to speak to you," Emma surprised herself once the words came out of her mouth.

"Just a moment, Emma," Mr. Harris brushed her off, "Mr. Stilinksi, this is serious. It's obvious you cheated, there's no way you could get this mark on your own! You-"

"Sir, I don't appreciate your tone." Emma surprised herself. She just talked back to a teacher.

"Excuse me?"

"You have no evidence that Stiles cheated," she replied, almost having no control over her own words. She stepped towards the two.

"Emma," he said with a condescending chuckle, "Looking at his other test marks is enough. But you two have almost the exact same answers."

"That's because we studied together!" Emma half-shouted, "You can't just conclude that he cheated without even hearing him out!" Emma felt her heartbeat rise. She looked over at Stiles, who had an almost bewildered expression on his face. She could tell he was not used to someone standing up to a teacher for him.

Mr. Harris sighed, clearly irritated.

"I'm sorry, I realize this is not my business-" Emma started.

"You're right, it's not."

"But it's unfair to conclude that he cheated. He really did study hard for this, okay? I'm sure if he was to re-write it right now, he'd get the same mark. He didn't cheat."

Mr. Harris sighed, looking back at Stiles with a glare. "You are dismissed."

**Stiles' POV**

Emma looked at Mr. Harris with a smirk, and glanced back at Stiles. She walked out of the classroom and he trailed behind her. Emma stopped in the middle of the near-empty hallway with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Th-thank you," Stiles stammered. He looked down into Emma's brown eyes. Her caramel locks were pulled back, exposing her beautiful face. He had never had someone stand up for him like that. She risked so much just for him. Just for a test mark.

"I just did what I thought was right," Emma told him, looking down at the floor, "And besides, Harris is an.. ass."

"Whoa!" Stiles exclaimed. She chuckled back with him. It was nice to laugh with her again.

"What?" she asked. They stood in the same position.

"I've just never heard you swear before, I thought you were innocent," Stiles replied. Emma laughed and playfully hit his shoulder.

"I only do when it's needed. There's no nice word to describe him," Emma told him. Their laughter faded and they again stood in silence.

"No one has ever stood up for me like that, thank you," he told her, finally putting his thoughts into words.

"You're welcome, Stiles," Emma assured him, "You- you deserve more than that."

"Well, I don't deserve you." How could he say that? He mentally scolded himself. She broke up with you, he thought, of course you don't deserve her. They stood, looking at each other.

Stiles waited for her reply.


	28. Scared?

_Your reviews, seriously, are so great :') Thanks so much._

**Stiles' POV**

Emma smirked as if he said the craziest thing ever. But it was true- he didn't deserve her.

"Stiles," she whispered, "You deserve.. everything." Emma's eyelids dropped as she looked down to the floor again. She asked the next question as if she could read Stiles' mind. "We're not broken up, right? I don't.. I don't want to be broken up." He felt the blood rush to his face. His heart beat faster than ever before. He was speechless. Of course he didn't want things to be done between them. He loved her.. he loved her.

"What are you thinking?" Emma lightly giggled. Stiles looked into her chestnut brown eyes and brought his hand to hers. She uncurled her arms and stood close to him, their joined hands hanging between them.

"I, uh," Stiles couldn't say anything. So he didn't. So slow it was painful, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. It felt so good to kiss her, especially due to the fact that he thought he never could again. As his lips touched hers, his stomach numbed. No-one had ever had this effect on him before. Their lips seperated. "I don't ever want to fight again," Stiles whispered as he hovered over Emma, a lump in his throat. Emma shook her head.

"Me neither, Stiles," she whispered back. She felt so right in his arms. "It felt so wrong not being.. just not being us."

"I swear, you're reading my mind," he chuckled.

"Am I correct when I say you want to go get some frozen yogurt with me right now?" He looked at her as she smiled, biting her lip.

"You're psychic," he shouted sarcastically. Emma laughed and playfully hit his stomach.

"I feel like I could go for some rainbow sprinkles," she giggled as she interlaced her fingers with his. He held her hand tightly, feeling like he could never let go. They walked through the corridor, hand-in-hand, in a comfortable silence. "Oh, shoot- don't you have lacros-"

"Sh, sh, no, I don't," Stiles whispered, bringing their joined hands up to his face and kissing the back of her hand.

"But you love la-"

"Not as much as I love.. as I love spending time with you," he answered, "Not nearly as much. And running around a field with a bunch of other sweaty teenage boys compared to eating sprinkles with my girl? I'm not crazy." Emma laughed and gripped his upper arm with her other hand. He nearly said he loved her. He sighed, glad he saved himself. This time.

"I'm your girl, huh?" she echoed. He looked over at her to see an large smile on her face.

"I'd be quite sad if you weren't," Stiles replied. Emma sweetly giggled.

"Aren't you going to get in trouble for skipping?" Stiles pretended to cough.

"Can't you tell.. I'm sick?" he muttered in an artificially hoarse voice.

"Oh, of course," Emma answered, "And I will nurse you back to health with rainbow sprinkles." Stiles laughed.

"Nurse as in noun? As in you'll be dressed as a nurse? As in-"

"Stiles!" Emma shrieked, playfully hitting his shoulder. Stiles' laughter echoed through the corridor. Emma laughed with him in unison and rested her head on his shoulder. They reached the fork in the hallway they always separated at. They decided after going to their lockers, they'd meet in the parking lot.

**Emma's POV**

As Emma got into Stiles' car, she gladly plopped her heavy backback down to the floor of the Jeep. They both contacted their fathers to let them know they'd be out. Stiles started the car and looked over at Emma.

"Yum's Yogurt Palace?"

"There's actually a palace of yogurt here?" Emma mocked. Stiles licked his lips for the thousandth time and laughed.

"I'll take that as a yes." They soon approached their destination, and after going in and both getting swirl frozen yogurts with extra rainbow sprinkles, they sat across from each-other in a secluded booth.

"Thanks for this," Emma told him.

"I'd buy you a million frozen yogurts." Emma tilted her head and smiled at him.

"I don't think you could afford that."

"I'll take a bank loan."

"You think a million frozen yogurts are worth it?"

"Absolutely I do. And I'd invest in the sprinkles." Emma laughed and reached out her hand to place over his. He quickly flipped his hand and gripped hers back. She gazed at him as he coyly smiled at her, his dimples caving into his cheeks.

Like any other ordinary teenage girl, Emma had physical flaws she wasn't so fond of. But the way Stiles stared at her made her feel beautiful. His eyes travelled over her face, studying every one of her features. She had never had someone look at her the way Stiles looked at her.

"Truth or dare?"

"I always take dares," Stiles confidently replied.

"Are you really that afraid of telling the truth?" Emma regretted her question as soon as it came out. She reminded herself of why they had that argument and she certainly did not want to remind Stiles either.

"I'm a man of many secrets," he replied. Emma sighed out of relief and coyly smiled at him.

"Well, I always take the truths."

"Scared?"

"Quite the opposite."

"Tell me my dare already." Emma looked around and saw a woman throwing out her yogurt cup by the entrance. "I dare you to ask that woman for pancake mix." Stiles burst out in laughter, shaking his head at Emma. He didn't ask tell her she was weird or ask her what was wrong with her. She could be random with him and he understood it and welcomed it.

"Why not?" he laughed. He dropped his spoon in the small pink cup. Their senses of humor could not have been more perfectly matched. She watched him walk over and laughed as she sat alone. Stiles stood faced away from Emma, but the woman's confused look told the story. She stepped back and went about her way, exiting through the front door.

Stiles came back with a light jog. As he dropped back in his seat across from her, a rush of his wonderful smelling cologne met her nose. Emma was in a fit of laughter.

"I can't believe you actually did it!" Emma laughed as she clapped her hands. "Thank you!"

"The least I could do after what you did for me at school," he said with an appreciative grin, "You know, I think we fit well together." He may have said it just as a joke or silence-filler. But it meant so much to her.  
>They fit well together.<p>

"What did she say?"

"She just stared at me," he said in between laughs. "Okay, stop stalling- truth or dare?"

"Like I said- always truth."

"Okay," Stiles deliberated, playing with his frozen yogurt with the small spoon, "Let's see.. okay, what was your first impression of me? Honestly." Emma looked down at the table and smiled.

"That you were incredibly cute. And honestly? That you probably had a girlfriend," she giggled. Emma looked up at Stiles to see his cheeks a rosy pink.

"And then you got to know me and realized why I didn't have one." Emma laughed.

"I'm glad I filled the position," Emma answered, "You just needed someone to match your dorkiness." Stiles nodded and laughed.

"What was your first impression of me?"

"Oh, no, no, that's not the way it works," Stiles told Emma.

"Fine, truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"I dare you to tell me your first impression of me." Emma raised an eyebrow as Stiles chuckled.

"Well, I definetly checked you out," he answered, "And wondered how long it would take me to embarrass myself. And wondered if your personality was as beautiful as your appearance. And it is." Emma couldn't help but get goosebumps at his answer. She shyly looked down at the melting frozen yogurt in her cup.

They continued to converse, but laughed more than they actually talked. Stiles finally invited Emma over after they finished their frozen yogurt and she was more than happy to accept.

As soon as they went through the front door, Emma greeted Stiles' dad but was quickly pulled upstairs by Stiles. They walked into his bedroom and Stiles shut the door behind him. She slowly walked in and saw something on his desk that caught her attention.

Emma took off her cardigan and placed it in a bundle on Stiles' computer desk, leaving thin spaghetti straps resting on her shoulders. "Can I take a look at this book?" she asked, pointing to a used, paperback book resting on the corner of the desk.

"Every time you see a book, you have to inspect it? You nerd," Stiles muttered. Emma looked at him with a mocking gasp. He chuckled and licked his lips.

"I knew it. You're totally a closeted reader," Emma remarked, opening the book at a random spot. Just by the smell and texture of the pages, she could see the printed words had been read before. As Emma studied the paperback, she could almost feel Stiles' eyes on her. She felt his warm presence get closer to her. She felt his lustful lips crash onto her naked shoulder. She chuckled and delicately placed the book back to where she found it and turned around to face him. She looked up at him as he towered over her.

"You know, my- my mom.. she had an obsession with books. There was never a time where she didn't have a book she was reading," Stiles said in a quiet voice. Emma saw his uneasy expression. It was evident he was not used to talking about his mother. Or his feelings for that matter. "That was.. the last one she read." His glistening hazel eyes studied hers. "She- she would've liked you." His words shook with his last sentence.

Her stomach turned at all the emotions she was feeling. Sadness, to see him go through such pain. Relief, that he could say these things to her and trust her. Love. That was not a new one.

"I think I would've liked her, too Stiles," Emma responded, forcing a small grin. Her hands found their way to his. "If she was anything like you, I would've definitely liked her."

"I'm sorry," Stiles snapped his head down to look at the floor, "I don't mean to get all.. depressing."

"No," Emma immediately protested, "It's amazing, Stiles. You.. you have been through so much, and yet you're still this wonderful person. You didn't let something so.. awful change you." Stiles looked back up with such hope in his eyes.

"I don't understand how you see that," Stiles answered in a raspy voice, "Especially right after.. it- it happened, I was.. I was just horrible. To everyone." She now saw the insecure side of Stiles. The side he never showed anyone. "And you, I mean, you've lost so much, and you're just so- so perfect."

"Stiles," Emma placed her hand on his soft cheek, "You were young. How is a kid supposed to deal with that? And it's.. it's unbelievable to me how you don't know how great you are. You're giving and caring and have this amazing appreciation for life. You drop everything to help someone." She stopped to chuckle, "And I am definitely not perfect, okay?" She looked into the sea of copper he had in his eyes. Without another word, she leaned closer to him, slightly going up on her toes to reach him. He lowered his head, granting her to kiss his impeccable lips. Their lips disjointed but their foreheads remained in contact with eachother.

"You definitely _are_ perfect," he whispered. Emma giggled and shook her head 'no'. She dropped back down to her heels and her hands slid down his firm chest. She looked up at him, admiring every beauty spot on his face.

"Emma, I... I have to tell you something. Actually two things," he took a deep breath, "And please, just hear me out, okay?" Emma looked at him quizically.

"Okay," she answered, confused, "What is it?" His eyes darted to the floor and back up to hers. He swallowed hard as they stood in silence for a few seconds.

"Alright. Here goes."


	29. This Isn't Safe

_I really appreciate all the reviews :) Thanks so much for all your kind words. Hope you enjoy this one!_

**Stiles' POV**

Standing there, looking down at Emma's curious expression, was one of the most terrifying moments of Stiles' life. He tried to soothe himself by breathing deeply and thankfully, he calmed down once Emma's soft, familiar aroma danced over his nose. The guilt was killing him. He had to tell her the truth.

"This is going to sound absolutely.. crazy to you," Stiles stumbled over his words, "It's about what happened.. that night. That, that accident." Stiles could see Emma's eyes widen. She bit her lip like she always did when she was nervous. His voice trembled with his next words, "It wasn't an- an animal that ran out in front of us."

"I know," Emma quickly responded. His eyes raced to look into Emma's, "I thought I was just being crazy or seeing things- but I know it wasn't.. it wasn't normal." She began to look a bit scared. Stiles swallowed the dry lump in his throat. _Just say it_, he thought. He wouldn't bring Scott into this. No, he would not share Scott's secret with anyone- if anyone was to find out, it's because Scott wanted them to know. He couldn't do that to his best friend.

"It was the same thing that day in the woods, wasn't it?"

"Man, you-" Stiles forced a chuckle, "See? You _are_ smart." His head began to ache. His eyelids dropped and he opened his mouth. "Werewolves exist." He opened his eyes with a wince, afraid of how Emma would react.

At first she exhaled very deeply. Her eyes diverted to the cieling, her forehead crinkling in confusion.

"I realize, it sounds so.. insane," Stiles mumbled, looking down at the floor, "I wish this was some dumb joke.. but it's not."

"How do you know this?" Stiles heart raced. He would have to lie to her again. He rehearsed this. Now he had to choke it out.

"There was an attack and my dad went to investigate it. I heard it over his radio and.. and I went to the crime scene. And, when no-one else was there, I s-saw it," he stuttered, "And I couldn't believe my eyes. But I did research. And- and now I'm sure. But I've told no-one." It was most of the truth. With Scott left completely out of it.

"This must be killing you," she said, surprising him. He looked up from the floor to meet her brown eyes, "You have to keep this secret. And, and if I was you, I'd be petrified to try to tell anyone."

And that was why he was in love with Emma. She didn't call him crazy or laugh in his face. She considered his feelings. She put herself in his shoes. Her kind, considerate soul amazed him.

"Thank you for not reacting how everyone else would." Emma placed her hand on his cheek.

"Thank you for telling me," she whispered to him, "I saw it, too, okay? Thank you." She suddenly sighed and looked upset.

"Hey, what is it?" he worringly asked.

"I just- I'm just wondering why.. why it would want to hurt us. I know it.. I know it jumped out," Emma stumbled over her words, trying to piece it all together.

"Maybe because I know about it," Stiles mumbled, "I just hate- I just hate that you're in danger because of me." Emma shook her head and rested her forehead on his chest.

"Stiles, I haven't told you this- but when I first moved here, I went on a run and, and I saw something in the woods. At the time, I convinced myself it was nothing, but I knew it wasn't. You haven't put me in any danger, okay?" she assured him, "And besides, I feel so safe when I'm with you. The safest I've felt in a long time." She had no idea how wonderful it was to him to hear her say those words.

"Really?"

"Really," she replied quickly. Emma pulled her arms around Stiles' torso and squeezed. He kissed the top of her head, relieved.

"You said two things," she said into his shirt.

"What?" Stiles knew exactly what she was talking about. The second thing he was going to tell her. The thing that made him even more scared.

"You were going to tell me two things." Stiles licked his lips and sighed.

"You know," he said with a laugh, "I actually forget." _And of course you chicken out like you always do_, he mentally scolded himself.

**Emma's POV**

"Well, tell me once you remember, okay?" she said with a chuckle. She stood, holding tightly onto him and smelling his comforting scent. He finally told her. He finally told her and made her understand- she wasn't crazy. What she saw was real. And this secret he'd been keeping for a long time- he trusted her with it. She had never felt so close to him before. If it was possible, she loved him even more now.

"I will." His chest vibrated once he spoke. His chest was so firm. And his back, too. Just by hugging him, she could feel his muscle definition. But by simply looking, no-one could tell. His sensitivity wasn't the only thing he hid from people.

She pulled away and looked up at him.

"Can I wear that brown hoodie you lent me once? I love it," Emma asked. Stiles chuckled and kissed her forehead. He moved over to his closet and grabbed the hoodie that was draped on a hanger. She turned and gladly took it from him.  
>"Thanks."<p>

"Keep it," he laughed.

"Wait, you wear it first for a while, then I'll wear it," Emma told him. He only smiled at her and put it on. "What? I like the way you smell, okay?" Stiles' dimples were prominent as he grinned at her and zipped up the hoodie.

"I like the way _you_ smell," Stiles answered, pulling her to his chest once more. Emma eventually took Stiles' hand let him to his bed. They lay in Stiles' bed in silence. She loved how they could just lie there, in complete innocence- simply because they enjoyed eachother's company. Emma was draped across Stiles' chest with her head over his heart and her hand tightly around his torso. He traced a finger continously up and down her back, causing pleasurable trembles through her body.

She contently listened to his breathing and heartbeat. "Have you eaten?" Stiles chuckled, causing his chest to go up and down quickly. "No, come on, you've just had frozen yogurt, you must be hungry."

"Well, I'm always hungry- but yeah, I'm especially hungry right now," Stiles answered, "Aw, you care about me." Emma giggled and looked up at him, resting her chin on his chest.

"Well, not necessarily you, but your stomach," she teased back. Stiles threw his head back in laughter. Emma felt a buzzing in her pocket. She fished her phone out and placed it in Stiles' hand. "Please read it, I'm too lazy."

"It's from your dad. 'Where are you? Come home'," Stiles read. Emma looked at him, worried. She took the phone and quickly texted back.

'_I'm at Stiles', is everything okay?_'

"I hope he's not mad," Emma mumbled, "I did tell him I'd be going out with you."

"Maybe he dug into my records and finally found out I stole a pack of gum when I was seven," Stiles answered. Emma chuckled.

"You dangerous man."

"It's in my blood."

"Did you actually steal a pack of gum when you were seven?"

"I _was_ a trouble-maker, but not one that broke the law," Stiles chuckled. Emma giggled and looked into his hazel eyes. How she loved him. Her phone buzzed again. The two of them eagerly looked to see what it would reveal.

'_Yes, just come home, you've been out enough._' Emma showed the text to Stiles, confused.

"My dad has never acted like this," she stammered.

"I'm sure it's nothing, babe," Stiles assured, "Parents get worried over nothing sometimes." Emma felt silly for feeling so giddy as soon as he called her babe. He said it so casually but it sent a rush of butterflies to her stomach.

"I hope so." Emma mounted up on her knuckles and sat back with her legs crossed. Stiles looked at her, sitting up and leaning on the head-rest.

"Thank you," were the next words that came out of his mouth.

"For what?"

"For existing." Emma's lips were pulled into a smile as she gazed at his serious face. She literally felt like she'd be lost without him. Moving to Beacon Hills was terrifying, but as soon as she met him, she felt like she'd be okay. She could talk to him about the horrific incidents of her past and he understood her. Anytime she thought of him, she felt love. It was definitely true what they said about not knowing what falling in love was until you actually experienced it.

She was in love with the person sitting across from her. So deeply in love.

"I don't- I don't even know where to begin," she chuckled to herself. She looked up to see him lick his lips like he always would.

"I get that you have to leave, but can you _not_, though?"

"That sounds like a lovely idea," Emma replied, "however, getting in trouble doesn't really sound too fun right now." Stiles nodded with a laugh and groaned as he slid off of the bed. Emma followed his lead. Reaching the front door, Stiles called out to his father that he'd be dropping Emma off.

During the ride, Emma fiddled with the radio and found a station playing 80's music, to which she goofily sang along to, leaving Stiles in fits of laughter. They approached Emma's street, but Stiles made a sharp left before her house.

"What are you doing?" Emma asked in utter confusion.

"I don't want to stop spending time with you." His comment set the butterflies in her stomach off again. "I'm willing to drive around just to get a few more minutes with my girlfriend."

Emma chuckled and reached her hand out to rest on his shoulder and lightly stroked his neck up and down.

"You're not making it any easier," Stiles answered, enjoyingly craning his neck as she massaged him. "Oh, I just remembered, I have to make a stop about an hour away. You mind staying with me? It'll be real quick." Emma laughed, so happy he wanted to be with her.

"I don't want to go home either," Emma chuckled. Eventually, Stiles unhappily made the correct turn and idled in front of Emma's home. As the car stopped, they looked at each other in silence.

"Hey, I get that you love my new sweater, but I want it back," Emma finally said. He laughed. How she loved that laugh.

"Where are my manners? How could I just take _your_ sweater like that?" Emma giggled. Stiles unbuckled his seat-belt and moved up to the edge of the seat. She couldn't help but eye him as he took off the hoodie. She sighed, considering what'd it be like to watch him take off the rest of his clothing. She felt her face flush uncomfortably with the thought. He dropped the sweater on her lap.

"Thank you," Emma chirped, "I've had a wonderful time, as always."

"Likewise," Stiles answered. He eagerly closed the distance between them and pressed his lips on hers. Feeling Stiles' soft lips against hers finally caused the butterflies to go frantic. Impulsively, she deepened the kiss by licking his lower lip, spreading hers just slightly apart. Afraid of losing any more control, Emma pulled back, a little out of breath. She slowly opened her eyes at the same time Stiles did. He looked at her with a sly grin.

"I'll see you later," she whispered with a smile. Grabbing her things, and of course, the cotton hoodie, Emma got out of the vehicle. She walked through her front door, a little wary of what her father was acting so urgent about.

"Dad?" she called out. Her father rounded the corner, dressed in his uniform. "What's going on?" she asked, her voice shaking once she noticed his serious expression.

"I just thought you should be home by now. School ended a while ago." Emma's father bent down by the shoe closet and began to put his boots on.

"Well, I'm home," Emma announced, "Where are you going?"

"Just got called in the station," he answered, focusing on tightening his laces.

"C-can Stiles come over?" she stammered.

"The house is a mess," he muttered. Emma looked around, puzzled. They've had guests over in much more worse conditions.

"Uh, I'll clean it. Then can he?"

"Emma, you were just with him!" Bruce replied sternly. Did he hate Stiles or something? No, no-one could hate him. They had no reason to. Did he not like the thought of her with a boyfriend? She understood how it could seem like a couple- well, they were now. But no, he wouldn't deal with it like this. It had to be more than that.

"I- I know but, I'd like some company."

"Don't you have homework to do?"

"Not a lot," Emma shrugged, trying to understand her father's behaviour.

"Emma, please, just stay here, okay?"

"Dad, what's going on?" Mr. Landson stood with his arms behind him, resting on his back and stretching.

"Nothing, I just think you need to focus on some school work, okay? You're spending too much time with that Stilinski kid anyway. I'll be home later." He sighed and stood in silence for a second. He gave Emma a light pat on her cheek. "I love you," he said with his usual, soft voice. He walked past her, quickly closing the door behind him.

This was not the dad she knew. He never judged people the way he did. Something in her gut told her that wasn't about Stiles at all. Emma sighed in frustration and dragged her feet to the kitchen, making herself dinner, wishing Stiles could be there.

She grabbed her things and made her way to her bedroom. Emma filled her stomach and began to do her school-work. She then took out her cell-phone and texted Stiles.

_'Sorry, have a bunch to do. :('_ It was partly true. She didn't want to tell Stiles what her father said about him. Especially since she knew he didn't mean it. She sent the message and went back to work. A moment later, Stiles replied.

'_That's okay. I'll just cry now.'_ She smiled at her phone.

'_Don't cry please :) You're too cute to cry.'_ Emma chuckled and placed her phone back on her desk. After finishing her homework, she sat in front of the television, extremely bored. A commercial break began, momentarily stopping the sitcom Emma was watching. After a fast-food commercial, a small segment from the local news station came on with a story about a mysterious sighting in the woods.

Emma's heart drummed against her ribs. She sat up and silently stared at the tv screen. It displayed shots of the dark forestry of Beacon Hills, closed off by yellow police tape. _"Catch the rest of the story on the most trusted news station in the county at 8."_ Emma nervously chewed on her lip, staring down at her lap.

She began to have an uncontrollable urge to check the crime scene out. She knew she shouldn't, but whenever there _was_ a crime scene, she became unbelievably curious. Especially with this one- it could of involved the werewolf.

Refusing to deny her curiousity any more, Emma grabbed her phone and texted Stiles.

'_There's a crime scene! Can we go? Pleeease._'

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles responded to his phone's chime, glad to see there was a text from Emma. Whenever he saw her name on his phone, it made him smile. He read the text. A crime scene? Stiles began to worry- what if it involved a werewolf? No, it wasn't a full moon. It couldn't be that.

What was the harm in doing so? He texted her back.

'_YES WE CAN GO! Are you allowed?_'

Emma replied quickly, _'Well, my dad isn't home at the moment.. but he didn't say I couldn't leave, exactly. I finished my homework, so it's okay. :)_' Stiles smiled. His father wasn't home either. It must've been a big crime scene.

'_Be there in 10._'

**Emma's POV**

Emma was glad Stiles agreed. She jogged upstairs and grabbed Stiles' hoodie, which was resting on her bed. As she waited on the staircase, Emma felt a little bit guilty. Her father was really persistent on getting her home. But she _did_ do all her school-work like he requested. What was the harm in observing a crime scene like every other person who knew there was one would?

She breathed deeply. So, maybe this _was_ involving the werewolf. And said werewolf could be dangerous. Well, he was dangerous.

But, it might have not been involving him. Either way, Emma wanted to get out of the house. Especially if it involved being with Stiles.

Soon after, Stiles' Jeep pulled in front of Emma's home. She locked the door behind her. Emma opened the car door to see Stiles smiling at her.

"I'm glad your new sweater is already being put to use." Emma looked down at the brown hoodie draped over her body and chuckled. As she plopped down in the seat, she reached over and gave Stiles a peck. Stiles grinned at her. He then pulled out his police radio from under Emma's seat. "I have bad news."

"What?"

"It ran out of batteries." Emma giggled.

"That's okay," she assured him, "We'll find out everything we need to know when we get there." Stiles shrugged in agreement and drove off. She informed him on the location of the crime scene, which she remembered from the news segment, and he had no problem finding it. Stiles parked his Jeep away from the police vehicles, which were resting farther down the winding road. "Let's go through this way."

The sky was beginning to turn a very dark blue as Stiles and Emma walked through the heavily wooded area. Emma continously checked around them to make sure no officers would see them, especially her father.

As they walked, Emma felt Stiles' warm fingers intertwine with hers. She held onto him tightly as they heard indistinct chatter. They stopped to hide behind the thick trunk of an oak tree. The two of them peeked over to see an officer very far away- one Emma had never seen before. He was standing with a flashlight and gun, shouting at someone. Emma moved around to see who he was talking to, but the view was completely blocked.

Suddenly, an enormous roar ripped through the woods, nearly shaking every tree. Emma lost all the breath in her lungs. _I knew I shouldn't of come_, she thought,_ I knew it._

"Let's go, please, let's go," Emma's voice shook. Stiles firm arms wrapped around Emma's body and guided her from the view her eyes were glued to.

Suddenly, she saw something she knew would be burned in her brain forever. The werewolf that jumped out in front of them. The one that tried to kill them. It pounced on the officer and roared. All of a sudden, she noticed that behind that werewolf was another figure. It was an even bigger and darker werewolf. Another one? No, her mind was playing tricks on her- it couldn't be.

But it was. The other werewolf snarled so loudly, it could be heard from where Emma and Stiles stood, frozen. It attacked the first werewolf, whipping it off the officer. The first werewolf rolled on the forest floor, but quickly got onto its feet and let out a piercing growl. Emma felt Stiles' grip on her arms tighten.

The two werewolves participated in a vicious and loud fight. Emma couldn't believe her eyes. The werewolves bit and scratched at each other continuously, growling and whimpering and what sounded like screaming at each other.

The darker werewolf finally got the first one on its back. It gave up a fight, but the darker one maintained its power. It snapped its large teeth, trying to kill the other. The one that attacked Emma and Stiles was struggling, and obviously losing. Suddenly, it squealed. A sound that sent pain to Emma's eardrums.

The bigger, darker werewolf had dug its teeth into the neck of the other. Emma found herself nearly panting, beads of sweat on her forehead. The werewolf on the bottom stopped struggling and slowly became motionless.

Emma saw the officer still on the ground, crawling backwards, away from the scene. The darker werewolf growled at him, still hovering over the being he had just killed. Almost as if it was telling the man to go. To leave.

The man sprinted away and soon disappeared from sight. Emma watched the werewolf panting and looking down. It slowly stepped over the body and shakingly walked away.

Emma took a couple steps to see where it would go. It stopped, still staring at the ground and panting. Suddenly, it became smaller. Shrinking, losing the darkness of its fur. Then losing its fur. It was transforming in front of her eyes.

"Emma, this isn't safe, let's go," Stiles whispered into her hair. Emma shook her head and continued to watch the scene. She gasped.

No, no, it couldn't be. It couldn't be true. Her eyes were deceiving her. Stiles stood still with Emma, behind her, gripping her tightly.

The werewolf that had just killed the creature that almost killed Emma herself. It wasn't a werewolf anymore. The words of confirmation slithered out of her mouth, giving a voice to the unbelievable sight she was seeing.

It came out as a soft, shaken whisper, "Dad?"


	30. What Do You Feel With Me?

_Thank you so much for your patience! My schedule has finally cleared up so I'll be updating much more often! This one has a lot of fluff.. and some other stuff too. :) I hope you enjoy it._

**Emma's POV**

Emma felt her knees wobbling in weakness. She began to collapse, but felt Stiles' strong arms hold her up.

"I- I don't," Emma stammered over her words. Her mind was a scrambled mess. Tears dripped beneath her chin. Her chest heaved, racking with painful sobs as she lifelessly leaned back on Stiles.

"Let's just go to my house, okay?" Stiles calmly told her. Emma looked back to see if her eyes had deceived her. They hadn't. There was her father. It was all true. It was really happening. Stiles' arm was around her waist and he led her out of the woods. He guided her in the car. Emma sat quietly, looking down at her lap. Her head and heart were both pounding.

Stiles slid in the car and closed the door carefully. Emma looked up to see his sad golden green-brown eyes and hiccuped with every sob. He softly mouthed Emma's name and brushed her cheek with his palm. She felt Stiles start the car, but her surroundings were a complete blur. They came to a final stop as Stiles pulled up into the driveway in front of his home.

"My dad's not home," his voice broke the silence. Emma stayed frozen, blankly staring ahead. Stiles got out of the car and walked around to the passenger's door. He opened it and stood, looking at her. Emma turned her gaze to Stiles, who looked at her with a concerned expression. She bit her lip, feeling as if she was numb. Emma felt Stiles' arm reach over her and release her seatbelt. His firm arm wedged in between her back and the seat while the other dipped under her knees. As if she was as light as a feather, Stiles scooped her up.

Before she knew it, she was lying down in Stiles' room. She sunk in the soft mattress, lying on her back and staring up at the cieling. She turned her gaze to look at Stiles. He was sitting on his computer chair next to her, nervously folding and unfolding his hands. His shirt was dampened right by his shoulder from her tears.

"Come here," Emma mumbled, craving Stiles' comforting touch. Stiles hesitated before standing up out of his seat. He made his way around the bed and lay down beside Emma. She turned to face him and stared into his eyes. She shifted to get closer to him.

Stiles and Emma lay face to face in his bed. Their legs were a tangled mess. Stiles rested an arm under his head and the other was draped over Emma's waist.

**Stiles' POV**

"This can't be happening," Emma whispered, "None of this. It just can't." Stiles looked at her sympathetically. He had felt this before- his world crashing down on him. He couldn't help but feel responsible. And Emma's condition was much worse than his had ever been. Yet she was handling it better than he ever did. "I don't know what to do."

"Don't think about what to do," Stiles replied, "That screws you over. Just lie here." Emma nodded with an unconvincing smile.

"I'm so scared, Stiles," she whimpered. God, he hated seeing her like this. It was his fault. A person like her should never be scared or sad. She should be happy. Why couldn't he just make her happy? "And I miss my mom and sister." Stiles nearly felt his heart break. He gazed at her. She looked so fragile and weak. "Thank you for being here."

"I'm so sorry, Emma. For everything that has happened to you. It's not fair-"

"Stiles, you're what's keeping me afloat here," she quickly replied. Her eyelids fluttered open and looked into his. She bit her lip, like she always did, and gripped around his back to pull herself closer to him. She dipped her head down and Stiles rested his chin on the top of her head.

"I'll always be your floatation device." Stiles felt Emma's body slightly shake as she laughed. He was so glad he could make her laugh when she was so upset. Emma had her cheek pressed up to his chest.

"Just stay here tonight, okay? Don't worry about anything. Just don't be alone." Stiles worried she would interpret what he said wrongly. To stay the night with him had a certain connotation to it. And he couldn't deny that he'd thought of being with her. But definitely not tonight. When she was so vulnerable. When she just needed someone to badly. He just wanted her to have someone. So she wouldn't have to fall asleep alone. "I can just make a spot on the floor and-"

"Don't be silly," her voice was muffled against his shirt, "We can both sleep here, can't we? You don't mind?"

"N-no," he stammered, "I don't mind." That was an understatement.

"Thank you," Emma answered, "The last place I want to be right now is home. And the first place is with you." His heart pounded as she spoke. And he was sure she could feel his heart-beat against her cheek. When she said things like that, it gave him overwhelming joy. She cared for him as much as he cared for her. It stunned him. "Is that why my dad was so insistant on me staying home? God, I _knew_ I shouldn't of left. How long has he been-" she stopped herself. "Did my mom know? Did my mom- did they.. did what happen to them happen to them because of this?" He could feel her breathing quicken. Her grip on his shirt tightened as she lightly trembled.

"Shhh," Stiles lightly rubbed her arm up and down. The first signs of a panic attack. He knew what to do. "Breathe, okay? Focus on deep breaths." He felt Emma nod quickly and heard her inhale heavily.

"I just don't know what to do or wha-"

"Emma," he whispered, "Emma, just breathe with me." She listened to him and silently inhaled and exhaled. "This will be solved. Don't worry about it right now. Just close your eyes." Emma turned over to lie on her other side so that her back was against Stiles' chest. He tightly held her close to him and kissed her shoulder. They continued to breathe in unison for a few minutes. Her breathing slowed and got heavier. He peeked over to see her eyelids closed. She was asleep. Good. She could rest. And if she had any bad dreams, he could wake her up.

She indistinctly murmured. "What?" he asked.

"Stiles," she whispered. He forgot she spoke in her sleep until now. That night they fell asleep on eachother, she mumbled for a moment but he couldn't make out any words. What was she saying? "Stiles," she said again in a deep sleep.

"Yeah?" he whispered back, with a slight hope that she would reply. She didn't. She continued to inhale and exhale. Stiles rested his head on his pillow, the tip of his nose slightly tickled by Emma's hair. His eyelids began to get heavy. He closed his eyes, smelling Emma's vanilla scent with every inhale.

"I love you," she whispered. Stiles' eyes shot open. Goosebumps formed all over his body.

"Emma?" _Please be awake, please be awake_, Stiles thought. She didn't reply. She was still sleeping. Did she love him? Was she thinking of him in her dreams? How wonderful that would be.

A sudden noise from downstairs pulled him out of his thoughts. His father had come home. Stiles looked over to his door, looking at the lock he closed for the hundredth time. Even if his father did find out his son was lying in bed with a girl, by now, Stiles didn't care. Emma needed , his dad followed the routine they seemed to have every night- unwinding at home by themselves, then catching up during supper. Emma shuffled around with a groan and turned to face Stiles again.

Her hair draped over her eyes. Stiles lightly tossed it over her shoulder to expose her beautiful, porcelain face. How did he get so lucky? He had never thought he'd be_ this_ guy. The one with the beautiful girlfriend. He always thought of himself as the sidekick. The ignored one. But Emma never ignored him. Ever when her problems were a hundred times worse- his needs were more important to her. He sighed, licking his lower lip and gazing at her asleep. This deep love he felt for her- it was a little scary, but it was exciting. His heart leaped as he reminded himself of what had happened just a moment ago- her saying she loved him in her sleep. Stiles breathed in deeply and closed his eyes again.

**Emma's POV**

Emma's eyes shot open to shouting. "Stiles!" She could recognize the Sherrif's voice. Emma's senses came to her. She realized Stiles was deep asleep facing her. She stopped for a moment to look at his somber expression as he slept. His father's voice called again. Emma lightly shook Stiles. He wouldn't get up. She sat up quickly, and while pushing her self up with her legs, one foot slipped and kicked Stiles right between the legs. She gasped and looked over to see his eyes shoot open.

"Stiles!" his father called again. Stiles' face scrunched up and he curled into a fetal position. Emma brought her hands to her mouth, shocked. She couldn't help but laugh at the situation, too.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," she whispered in between laughter. Stiles continued to wince, but shut his eyes and tightly smiled.

"Yeah?" he groaned back, his voice cracking.

"Dinner!" his father shouted back.

"Coming!" Stiles replied, still curled up in a ball. Emma sat up, cross-legged and rubbed his arm.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, stifling her chuckles. Stiles shook his head, as if saying "no problem" while giving her a tight-lipped smile. He sat up and rubbed his eye with his knuckle.

"Now_ that_ is a way to wake up," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. Emma couldn't help but feel more attracted to him upon hearing his tired voice.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. He looked at her and laughed.

"It's fine," he said as his cheeks redenned. Emma's phone buzzed in her pocket. She opened it to see "11 missed calls." She must've looked worried because Stiles urgently asked her what was wrong right away.

"11 missed calls," she read aloud. "My dad must be so angry."

"Call him back," Stiles advised, "Tell him- tell him, uh..."

"I'm about as sure of what to tell him as you are. If I tell him the truth- I can't tell him the truth. I'm just going to say I- I was out with a friend."

"What if he asks what friend?"

"I can't say you!"

"Why not?" Emma stopped herself from telling him what her father had said about her spending too much time with Stiles. She didn't want Stiles to think her dad didn't like him.

"What- what if my dad talks to your dad and your dad finds out I've been here and my dad finds out I was in your bedroom for the past hour?" Stiles blushed again.

"Yeah, that wouldn't be too good."

"How am I going to stay here undetected?" Stiles looked at her and bit the inside of his cheek.

"How 'bout I speed through dinner and bring up food for you?"

"You know how much I love food," Emma tossed her head to the side.

"Yes, yes I do," he replied with the same tone. Emma chuckled and nodded.

"That'll do, thank you," she replied. Stiles leaned forward, resting on his knuckles, and kissed her. Emma tasted his lips, it nearly taking her breath away from her. He jumped off the bed. "Are you going to walk with a limp forever now?" Stiles looked back at her at smirked. He closed the door behind him, leaving a quiet Emma sitting on his bed. She silently looked down at her phone. Her father was furious. He had a right to be. He had no idea where she was.

But he lied to her. And she hated dishonesty more than anything. Emma finally found the courage to call him back.

"Emma!" her father answered angrily.

"Hey, dad," she replied. She could already feel the tears forming.

"Where the hell are you?"

"I'm- I'm at a friend's," she answered, "I finished all my homework and everything- I thought it'd be okay-"

"And you didn't think to leave a note? Didn't I tell you not to go out tonight?"

"Dad, I-"

"Come home. Immediately." Emma's head pounded with pain.

"I'm sleeping over here, dad. I've been- I've been going through some stuff and I don't want to be at home with you angry at me. I'm really sorry, okay? I'm safe and I'll be home before I have to go to school. I love you." Emma pulled the cellphone away from her ear and hung up. She forced all the air out of her lungs and stared at the phone.

She fell back to stare at the cieling again. She couldn't believe what was happening. It was all too surreal. Emma sat up and swung her legs over the bed. She got up and picked up the same book she had picked up the last time she was over at Stiles'. She got through the first ten pages when Stiles came through the door, carrying a plate with a heap of food on it.

"You're the best boyfriend ever," Emma whispered as she tip-toed to Stiles. He closed and locked the door behind him and laughed.

"I feel like I'm harbouring a fugitive or something," he chuckled.

"Did your dad ask you why you had so much food?" Emma laughed, gladly taking the plate he was offering her.

"He's used to my appetite, so he didn't even notice I took four plates instead of the usual three," Stiles answered, waving a dismissive hand. She snickered as she took the plate to his desk. She happily chewed on a forkful of mashed potatoes.

"Stop looking at me, I'm eating like a cow," she told him as he sat on the edge of his bed, watching her. He only chuckled and continued to look at her. "Stiles," she sarcastically whined.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said, putting his hands up in surrender, "You're just cute."

"I don't understand how me stuffing my face is cute," she shook her head and giggled. Stiles licked his lower lip and grinned at her.

"Did you talk to your dad?" he said moments later.

"Yeah, I called him," Emma stated as she looked down at her plate.

"And?" he asked. She could sense the worry in his voice.

"I just- I just told him that I was with a friend and that I'd be staying for the night and just hung up... and now I feel awful." Emma sighed and played with her food.

"Don't feel awful, Emma. Don't feel guilty for any of this. This is a lot of stuff to deal with," Stiles told her. She looked over and wheeled the computer chair over to him. She tilted her head to rest on her shoulder and looked at him with a puzzled expression. She was so thankful to have him. He grabbed the arm rests of the chair and pulled her closer to him.

He smiled at her, his dimples caving into his cheeks. She couldn't help but smile back at him.

"You always seem to make me feel better," she confessed. He licked his lips and grinned even wider.

She finished the rest of her dinner and was soon back to lying with Stiles. She rested her head on his shoulder as he played with her hands.

"Thanks for the food," Emma mumbled into his shirt. She had taken off the hoodie he gave her and was lounging in her spaghetti-strap dress. He continued to paw at her fingers.

"You're welcome," she could hear the smile in his voice, "You're so incredibly polite."

"Last I remember, you told me _too_ polite," she replied, watching him play with her charm bracelet.

"I'm just worried for your welfare," he said in a sarcastic tone, making her titter, "Many people can take advantage of that. But I can tell you stand up for yourself when you need to." Emma smiled, amazed that he understood her. People had always told her she was too nice, but Stiles saw the strength in her. He knew she didn't let people walk all over her, and if they tried, she'd react.. not always in the best way. But she wasn't just a little naive girl with him. She felt like a woman.

"I think you're much nicer than you give yourself credit for," she muttered. It was true. He was amazing. He just didn't see it. Stiles simply shrugged his shoulders. "You know, it's kind of cute how you can't take a compliment." Stiles chuckled.

"I'm an awkward person," he replied, laughing. Emma tilted her head up and kissed him on the cheek.

"An awkward person that smells wonderful," she replied. Stiles' shoulders shook as he laughed. They continued to quitely giggle, all the while cautious Stiles' father would catch them, throughout the whole night.

The sky darkened very quickly, leaving Stiles and Emma lying in his bed in a pitch black room. They had been talking the entire time, about anything and everything. She had never felt so safe putting her feelings out there.

Emma worryingly asked to go under the covers because she was cold, but Stiles gladly did so. As they lay down, spooning with Stiles behind her, Emma could feel the sexual tension thick in the air. His warm breath on her neck, sending chills through-out her entire body. He gave her a sweet kiss on the back of her neck and hugged her close.

"You know how sometimes you're afraid to tell someone something because they might think of you differently?" his tired voice was beginning to surface.

"Yeah?"

"I never feel that with you, babe" he whispered. A smile grew on her face. She loved that he called her that.

"What _do_ you feel with me?"

"Happy."

**Stiles' POV**

He held her tightly, heat rushing through his body. He was afraid his mind would get carried away and Emma would be aware of his.. excitement. He breathed deeply and tried to think of things he didn't like. Socks. Yes. Those itchy wool socks.

"I'm afraid to look at the time," Emma chuckled, "Hey, you can drive me home in the morning before school, right?"

"Of course," he said, still chuckling at the fact that she asked him things like that like they were favours. There were never favours for him. They were opportunities to spend more time with her.

"I'm gonna pass out," she chuckled, her voice was slower and quietier. Stiles couldn't deny his eyelids were beginning to get heavier, too.

"Good night," Stiles said. _I love you_, he thought. He definitely loved her. She felt so right in his arms.

"Good night," she whispered back.

**Emma's POV**

"I don't think I can do this, Stiles," Emma exhaled as they sat in the idling Jeep in front of her home. Thankfully, Stiles' father had left before they had to go so they successfully got away with Emma staying over for the night. She looked over to Stiles who was gazing at her. He nervously licked his lips and rested his hand on hers. He always seemed to be warm.

"Emma, you've already been through so much. You're strong, okay?" She looked at him appreciatively and smiled. He didn't have to do all he did for her the past night and that morning. But he did, without hesitation.

"Thank you for letting me stay the night and for- for everything, really." Stiles' lips thinned into a smile.

"Anything," he replied. They sat in a comfortable silence, both looking at their intertwined hands. Stiles troked her back of her hand with his thumb. Her breathing finally slowed as he calmed her down.

"I'll see you at school," Emma finally whispered. She didn't want to leave Stiles. But she had to face her father. He would be angry. And she feared she wouldn't be able to confront him on the fact that he was.. what he was.

"Okay, see you," he softly replied. Emma leaped out of her seat and threw her arms around Stiles. He immediately gripped his arms around Emma's waist very tightly. She dug her head into his neck and inhaled the scent she loved.

Emma slowly got out of the Jeep and made her way to her home. Fearful, Emma opened the door and found her father stirring his spoon around in his cup of coffee. He looked over at her and scoffed, shaking his head.

"Explain yourself. Right now." As if she could. Her own father was lying to her for who knows how long, and _she_ had to explain herself. Emma clenched her fist.

"I don't- I just- I just want to go to school right now," she replied, feeling rage and sorrow and fear all at the same time.

"Tell me what's going on right now," her father ordered. Emma took a deep breath and looked at the man.

"You lied to me."


	31. Don't Be Worried

_Thank you for sticking with me through these awful hiatuses. Love you all._

**Emma's POV**

Emma's father looked at her with an icy expression. He didn't seem to be affected by his daughter's allegation at all. He rigidly stood in front of her, arms crossed and eyebrows rutted.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"You... you lied," Emma echoed, a little less secure.

"Emma," he sternly stated, "I'm tired of this behaviour!"

"You… you told me," Emma stumbled over her words, staring down at the floor beneath her, "You told me that you wouldn't yell at me anymore." It wasn't what she wanted to tell him. Not even close. But it _was _true. He had made that promise after a terrible fight they had. When Emma's mother was still with them.

The all too familiar rush of tears rose in her chest yet again, causing Emma to exhale sharply.

"Yell at you?!" Bruce raised his voice, "Of course I'd yell at you! You left the house when I specifically told you not to! I had no idea where you were!"

Emma knew where _he _was. He was busy being a… a werewolf. He was busy living this life he had hidden from her her entire life.

"I'm sorry, dad," Emma whimpered. She felt her body tremble, unable to comprehend the mess her life had become. "Can I please… can we just talk about this after school? I'm going to be late."

"Where were you?" Emma felt her father's gaze on her. She couldn't look him in the eyes. Emma decided to avoid the question. Telling her father that she had spent the night at a teenage boy's house wasn't exactly the best idea at that point.

"I'm –I'm going to get ready for school," Emma stuttered, using all the strength she had to walk past the man she thought she knew. Her father only scoffed as she trudged past him towards the staircase. Emma's legs felt like cement as she ascended the steps, her hand running against the cold banister. Everything about this place she called home was cold now. Death and deceit were the only things that touched Emma's family, it seemed.

Emma took off her clothes and slipped into the hot shower. As the steaming pebbles of water hit her back, Emma arched her neck and stared up at the ceiling. How did this happen? All of this? Her life seemed so normal a few months ago… now it couldn't feel more unnerving.

No. She wouldn't let this destroy her. She'd already gotten so far. And for what? To crumble now? No. She wasn't this person. She dipped her head under the shower head, to wash away the tears and the grime and the pain. She would get through this. She was sick and tired of crying.

Emma finally forced herself to get out of the warm shower and start her day. For real, this time. Emma went into her bedroom, the rising sun spilling an orange tinge on the walls. She quickly slipped on jeans and an oversized sweater, pinning her damp hair back. After feeding her cat, Emma grabbed her school things and went down the stairs. She was still groggy and desperately wanted to sleep for the next six hours, but felt a little better. Her father was at the kitchen table, shuffling around paperwork.

To her dismay, he called out her name once he heard her footsteps.

"Yeah?" Emma softly answered, standing before the front door. Her father rounded the corner and looked at her.

"We'll talk when I come home tonight," Bruce told her, his voice much lower than before. Classic. He screamed then regretted it –and it was evident he wasn't proud of his previous manner. It happened all the time.

"Yeah," she mumbled, nodding her head as she looked for her sneakers. She quickly slipped them on and went out the door, pushing the muddle of everything that had happened to the back of her mind.

Emma walked into the swarming corridor towards her locker. She saw Stiles leaning against her locker, frustratingly rubbing the back of his neck. Once he was aware of Emma walking towards him, his hazel eyes widened. "What's wrong?" she worryingly questioned, standing in front of him.

"Are you alright?" Stiles asked, towering over her. It clicked. He thought she had spoken to her dad about everything that happened the previous night.

"I… I didn't want to talk about it. You know –before going to school. And him going to work…" Emma replied. Stiles understandingly nodded, pulling her closer to him with his hand on her back.

"That's smart," he huskily consoled, "It's not exactly a quick five-minute chat, is it?" Emma felt at peace as her cheek pressed against Stiles' warm chest. He was slightly shaking as he hugged her. He was genuinely concerned. So concerned he was trembling. He truly cared for her. And that thought brought a warm gust of comfort to her heart.

**Stiles' POV**

Thank God she was okay. His head sank, resting his mouth on Emma's head. He drew in her fragrance, a weight off his shoulders. He didn't like to admit it… but a tiny part of him feared that Emma's father would've reacted violently. But Emma was Bruce's daughter. And Bruce knew how to control himself.

But that entire morning, a frightening pang of worry smashed him- just the thought of Emma being hurt. It destroyed him.

But she _was_ in pain. Emotionally. And it was all his fault. If it wasn't for him, she wouldn't have even known the truth about her father. If only he said he wouldn't go with her to that damned crime scene. He knew that she deserved to know the truth about her dad –but not this way. She had already been through so much… and now she had to discover that her father was lying to her? It wasn't fair. It nearly sickened him. It wasn't fair to her. At all.

"Stiles," Emma snapped him out of her trance, "What's going on?" Stiles pulled back and looked down to see Emma's eyes studying his expression.

"I was just worried about you," he painfully forced a smile. _I'm the cause of her pain,_ Stiles thought, _She doesn't deserve this._

"Don't be worried," Emma lightly chuckled, playfully nudging his abdomen, "Like I said before –you're my floatation device." He couldn't help but give her a tangible smile now.

"Tell me, what happened?" Stiles questioned, pulling back to lean beside Emma's locker, "Or –or you don't have to talk about it." Emma bit her bottom lip, chuckling.

"Don't be so jumpy," she giggled, calling him out. Stiles shrugged, a smile pulling at his lips. It was true –he was cautious around her. Only because he didn't want to bring back the bitter feelings she had faced. "I don't know," she began, mirroring Stiles' shrug, "He was mad… and I just said that I needed to leave for school. And he said we'd talk about it after." Emma opened her locker, looking at her reflection in the small mirror on the narrow door. She smoothed down her butterscotch hair. Stiles gazed at her as she looked at her reflection, tinkering with her hair. Emma looked to Stiles through the mirror and smiled. "What you lookin' at?" she sarcastically threated.

"The most beautiful girl in the world," Stiles spoke the exact words that hovered in his mind. Stiles looked at Emma's reflection as she beamed and looked down. She was right when she said he was awful at accepting compliments –but she had the most adorable reaction when people complemented her. The pink on her cheeks grew and she had a gorgeous smile on her face.

"Stiles," she sweetly burred, turning and tilting her head to the side. He smiled back at her, raising his eyebrows.

"Emma," Stiles simply replied. The happy expression on her face quickly turned to concern once the loud bell echoed through the hall.

"We're going to be late!" Emma exclaimed, shuffling through her supplies. Stiles felt a chuckle come from his chest.

"We still have five minutes, don't worry, babe," he soothed. She hurriedly took off her jacket, and shuffled through her backpack. She grabbed her supplies and closed her locker, quickly snaking her hand under Stiles' elbow.

The two of them walked down the hallway, bodies very close to each other. Stiles spotted people noticing him and his girlfriend. He proudly smiled, looking down at the beautiful girl beside him.

**Emma's POV**

It was difficult to pay attention in class. Emma was still desperately trying to make sense of the surreal mess that her life had become. Thankfully, she had good people in her life. At that thought of Stiles' warm embrace, she didn't feel so lonely anymore.

It was finally lunch time. Stiles and Emma walked to the cafeteria hand-in-hand.

"What should I buy for lunch?" Emma asked her boyfriend. Stiles licked his lips while pulling a 'thinking face'.

"That's a big decision," Stiles groaned, "I wish you would've given me more time to think." Emma chuckled and playfully nudged his side with her elbow.

"Oh look at that, Stiles has a girlfriend!" a deep voice exclaimed. Emma looked up to see a group of guys passing by. She shook her head at the boy's joke. "How did that even happen?!"

Emma glanced over to Stiles' face with a careless smirk on her face –but it immediately disappeared once she saw his expression. Stiles' lips were tightened down to a scowl as he glared at the floor. These boys weren't his friends. Emma felt a massive wave of anger flood in her chest.

"It happened by him not being a massive asshole like you are!" Emma heard a voice shout. Oh God… the voice belonged to her. The boy who insulted Stiles turned around with an incredulous smirk on his face. Emma stopped in her tracks and felt Stiles lightly tugging on her hand with his.

After locking eye contact with the bully, Emma scowled at him and let herself be led by Stiles. She walked away, still worked up.

"Jeez," Emma muttered, "Who does he think he is?" Emma looked over to see Stiles with crimson cheeks. He had an inkling of a smile on his face as he briskly walked through the hallway, holding Emma's hand tightly. "I'm sorry, Stiles," she sighed, "That must've been so embarrassing. I just can't help it with people like tha-"

Suddenly, Stiles gripped her hand firmly and directed her around a sharp corner in the school. She found herself pressed against a wall with Stiles' hands softly placed along her cheeks. His hazel eyes bore into hers, a giant smile splashed across his face. He looked shocked… disbelieving.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, "I'll try to stop being so crazy." Emma glanced down chuckling. Stiles' cupped her chin and led her head up to face him again.

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles felt silly for having such crazy butterflies in his stomach, but that was what Emma did to him. She stood up for him, no matter who said what. What did he ever do to get so lucky?

"You're the sweetest person I've ever met, Emma," Stiles told her. Emma looked at him with openhearted eyes.

"You think too highly of me," she giggled. Stiles shook his head with a smirk and leaned forward to taste her sweet lips. He was afraid to jinx himself by thinking of how grateful he was… how everything in his life was finally falling into place. He pulled back to look into the eyes of the girl he loved. A beautiful smile grew on her face.

"Food time?" Emma chirped. Stiles chuckled and took her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers. They entered the cafeteria and sat at their usual table with Scott and Allison. Their friends acknowledged the couple and were somehow already used to their hand-holding.

Emma slid her fingers out of Stiles' grip, which was always an emptying feeling for him. He watched as she took her wallet out of her backpack and swung her feet around to face away from the table.

"I'll be back in a jiffy," she sang to the group as she stood up. Stiles turned to talk to Scott, who was sitting beside him. He desperately wanted to speak to him about what had happened… how Emma's father was what he was. But he felt like he was betraying her trust if he did. Just like he felt like he was betraying Scott's trust if he told Emma what happened when the moon was full.

Stiles' mind immersed him into yet another journey of contemplation. He thought of all that had happened to him since the school year begun. It all seemed so surreal. So bizarre.

He was snapped out of his trance once he noticed Scott's hand waving in front of his face.

"What?" Stiles absent-mindedly questioned.

"I said do you want to go to the movies this weekend?" Scott asked, "The four of us." Stiles looked to see Allison's and Scott's wide eyes peering at him.

"Oh yeah, sure," Stiles grumbled, being reminded to start eating his lunch.

"So, you and Emma are officially an item now, aren't you?" Allison teased, resting her chin in her hand. Stiles shrugged with an undeniable smile on his face.

"I guess so."

"It's about time. Now the double-dates can actually be called _double-dates_,"Allison remarked.

"What movie were you guys thinking?" Stiles asked, hoping to divert the topic of his and Emma's relationship –mainly because he didn't want to embarrass himself with his chronic blushing.

"Well," Allison stared, "Our ideas are _The Adventures of Finn _or that one about the pilot or whatever."

"So _The Slime _is not even an option?"

"_The Slime _looks like possibly the worst horror movie ever made," Scott replied.

"That's exactly why I want to see it, compadre," Stiles answered, throwing his arm around his best friend's shoulders. "What do you say, Allison? A low-budget gore fest?"

Allison's eyes broadened at a sight behind Stiles. Stiles turned around to see Emma's bright smile as she approached the table. "I think we should let Emma decide," Allison stated.

"Oh no, what am I deciding?" Emma moaned, placing her food tray on the table and sitting down beside Allison, across from Stiles, "Why are you making me the bad guy?"

"I'm not," Allison coyly answered, "We want to go to the movies this weekend and we can't decide which movie to see."

"Okay, you're going to laugh at me," Emma told them, "But I really, really want to see _The Slime. _It just looks like it'd be awesomely horrible." Stiles could practically feel his eyes glow with wonder.

"You two are made for each other," Allison added, unwrapping her sandwich. Emma looked over to Allison, then back to Stiles, who was still glancing at her with admiration. Emma seemed to be blushing over Allison's comment.

"Did you say the same thing?" Emma asked Stiles, already knowing the answer. He nodded. "_The Slime _it is."

Lunch flew by and Stiles unhappily made his way to his next class.

**Emma's POV**

Third period went by agonizingly slow. As Emma excitedly walked to Biology among the crowds, she noticed Stiles' familiar figure ahead of her, walking with some other boys. One of them turned to look at Stiles –Emma could see it was Scott by his profile.

She shuffled closer to them to greet them, but was quickly stopped once she heard the next sentence between the boys.

"Are you still head over heels for Lydia?" she heard Scott's voice grumble over a chuckle.

"Oh yeah!" the guy on the other side of Stiles was reminded, "Aren't you, like, in love with her?"

Stiles liked Lydia? Loved Lydia? Emma felt a painful twinge in her chest at the thought of Stiles looking at another girl that way. The thought of another girl kissing him. Emma knew she couldn't compare to Lydia. Lydia seemed perfect –the way she dressed, the way her hair was never out of place. Of course Stiles would've liked her.

Emma looked down at the floor, sighing. Maybe things weren't so great after all.


	32. You And Me

_I hope I updated soon enough. :) __ Love you all to bits!_

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles laughed with Scott and shook his head. Of course he didn't like Lydia in that way anymore. He loved Emma. And it made him chuckle thinking how he was so sure that he was in love with Lydia. But then he met Emma and learned what it was like to really be in love. What it was like to care about someone else's happiness more than his own. What it was like to do anything to see someone else smile and what it was like to truly love himself when he was with someone.

And that someone was Emma. Stiles waved goodbye to his friends and entered his Biology classroom. He looked at his desk and was sad not to see Emma already sitting, but he looked to his side to see his beautiful girlfriend right there.

"Hey," he cheerfully said, putting an arm around her shoulders. She gave him a tight-lipped smile. They settled beside each other. Stiles watched as Emma slowly shuffled through her textbook with an absent look on her face. Something was definitely on her mind. "How has your day been?" Stiles chirped. Her brown eyes met his, along with a shrug and a constricted smirk. Something was definitely bothering her. And he had to fix it. "You alright?" Stiles asked, putting his hand over hers. Emma bit her bottom lip and looked down at his hand. The classroom continued to fill with students and Stiles began to worry that he wouldn't have enough time to cheer his girlfriend up.

"Yeah," she answered in a monotone voice.

"Emma," Stiles stated, with a bit of a chuckle in his voice. Emma looked up into his eyes, looking shattered. "Is this about your dad? It's going to be okay, Emma. I promise." Emma's eyes dipped back down to the table-top. Her shoulders rose into a small shrug. Stiles slid his hand off of Emma's and playfully tickled her side. Emma flinched as a wide grin quickly grew on her face.

"Stiles," she giggled, teasingly shooing his hand away from her waist. God, he loved it when she said her name. It sounded like a symphony when her voice was behind it. Stiles cocked his head to look at her. Emma glanced back at him with a smile.

"No fair," she protested.

"What's that? You want more?" Stiles joked. With both hands, he tickled Emma's waist, making her squirm and chuckle and slap his hands away from her body. He finally stopped, holding his hands out, palms facing Emma, as if in surrender. Emma let out a relaxed laugh, leaning forward and putting her hand on his. Stiles quickly grasped her small hand in his and rubbed her back. For a second, she rested her head on his shoulder. The bell rang and Emma settled back in her seat, sitting up straight and facing the front of the classroom.

Her brown eyes met his again as the teacher began his lesson. Her pink lips curled into a smirk before she put her attention back to the front.

**Emma's POV**

She tried to pay attention to Mr. Harris, but she just couldn't. The boy she loved sat right beside her. Emma could see him continuously looking over at her from the corner of her eye. How did she get so lucky to meet someone like him? Who cared so much for her?

Her heart lurched at the thought of what made her so upset in the first place. Stiles liking Lydia. Maybe she was just over-reacting. But maybe not. What if Lydia came on to Stiles? What if she told him she wanted to be with him and Stiles dumped Emma?

No. She had to stop thinking this way. Life had already become such chaos –she didn't need to make it worse with self-destructive thoughts. Stiles wouldn't do that. He wouldn't leave her like that. He was too great of a person to ever hurt someone that way.

Still, she kept replaying what she heard Stiles' friends say. Her thoughts came to an abrupt spot once the sharp sound of the viewing screen being pulled down snapped her out of her daze. Emma took out her notebook and began to copy the notes, not fully paying attention to what they even said.

Perhaps she needed one of those _mental health days_. A day where she only focused on getting her thoughts and feelings organized. And maybe Stiles could be there. Hugging her. Kissing her.

Emma felt her cheeks turn pink as she smiled down at her disarrayed writing. Her day was so strange. Some moments she felt as if her life had become a disordered, jumbled clutter that was unfixable. Then other moments she felt that she would be able to deal with it all and it would be okay. Emma shook away her confusing thoughts and tried to concentrate on the lesson.

After thirty minutes of Mr. Harris droning voice echoing through the classroom, he finally assigned seat work. Emma opened up her textbook and looked over at Stiles, who was resting his head on his folded arms. His eyes were closed and lips slightly pouted, clearly sleeping. Emma looked around at the other students to see they were either doing their work or discreetly on their phones. She looked back at her napping boyfriend and simpered, remembering the first time they spent time together. How they ate pizza and played video games and fell asleep on each other. Surreal was just another word to describe her life at that moment.

After gazing at him for another little while, Emma lightly poked his arm, to realize just how firm his biceps were. She rested down on her desk, mirroring him. His tired eyes opened slowly.

"Morning call, Mr. Stilinski," she mumbled. Stiles grinned at her and sat up, curving his back and stretching out his arms behind him. Emma hungrily gazed at his torso as his shirt rode up his stomach, revealing a sliver of toned muscles and navy boxers. She quickly looked back up at his face to see a smirk painted on his lips. She hoped he didn't see her blatantly checking him out. "Good sleep?" Emma asked, eyebrows raised.

"I'll have to invest in a better pillow," Stiles replied, shaking his head in an attempt to wake himself up.

"You missed a riveting lesson," Emma told him.

"Tough luck," Stiles answered, snapping his fingers. Emma chuckled and placed her elbow on the desk, resting her cheek in her hand.

"Do you have a question, Emma?" Mr. Harris called across the classroom. All the other students turned to look at her. She smugly shook her head and shrugged to Stiles. Emma went back to work.

The bell finally rang, commencing the sound of chairs screeching back and conversations all around the room starting.

"Shit!" Stiles muttered, putting his phone in his pocket.

"That's the first time I've ever seen someone be upset about Bio ending," she stated, packing her things in her backpack. Stiles chuckled and did the same as her.

"I could've gotten a much higher score," he answered, swinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"It's been a tough day for you, hasn't it?" Emma joked as the two of them walked out of class side-by-side. Stiles chuckled and found Emma's hand, interlacing his fingers with hers.

"I don't know how I survive!" Emma chuckled and stepped closer to him, tightening her grip.

"Stiles!" a voice shouted behind them. Lydia appeared, turning in front of the couple and stopping in their path. Emma looked at the strawberry-blonde gazing at Stiles with wide green eyes. The vile feeling of jealousy rose up in her chest, as well as insecurity. "Have you seen Allison?" Emma gazed over at Stiles who shook his head at Lydia with his bottom lip jutting out. Lydia sighed and charged in between them, disjointing their hands. Emma glared at the back of Lydia's head with a scowl as Lydia stormed away.

"Jeez," Stiles scoffed. Emma looked up at Stiles as she felt his hand meander down her forearm and over her hand, gripping it.

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles nuzzled his hand against Emma's and held it. The two of them continued to walk down the corridor. Stiles looked down at the floor, wondering how he could've ever liked Lydia. She didn't have to behave so rude. Real or not –it wasn't nice.

Stiles looked down at Emma, prepared to continue their conversation when he saw her eyelids drooped down and mouth in a thin line. "Emma, what's up?" Stiles said, "Don't let Lydia bother you. She's always been a bit overbearing."

"Has she, Stiles?" Emma mumbled. Stiles dipped his head down to meet Emma's gaze. Her brown eyes darted up, a hurt expression coating her face. "That's not what I heard."

"Wait, what?" he questioned, "What- what have you heard?"

"That you were in love with her." They reached Emma's locker, where she separated from him and fiddled with her lock. Stiles leaned against the locker beside hers, looking down at her as she bit her bottom lip out of frustration.

"Where did you hear that?" he quickly asked.

"Are you?" Emma asked, swinging her locker open and staring down at the textbooks in her hands.

"Of course not, Emma!" Stiles was appalled. Where did she hear this rubbish? Of course he wasn't in love with Lydia. He was in love with Emma. Madly in love with her. Lydia didn't even compare to Emma. But he had to say these things. To let Emma know just how much she mattered to him.

"Not ever?"

"I may have had a crush but…" his voice trailed off in silence as Emma emptied her backpack into her locker. Emma quickly looked up at him, her face pale and eyes full of sorrow. He hated to admit it, but she was kind of cute when she was jealous. "But… then I met you, okay? And I realized what it was like to _really _like someone. And what it was like… to look forward to spending time with someone so much and… I don't know, I feel like I missed you before I even met you." Emma's frown quickly turned to a goofy smile. She gazed up at him with her big eyes, biting her bottom lip once more –this time out of nervousness.

"I'm sorry," Emma sighed, tilting her head to the side and reaching out to grab Stiles' hand. "I just-"

"Don't be sorry," Stiles quickly replied, "I just want you to know that no other girl compares to you." Stiles felt his heart beating hard against his chest. He wasn't used to being so open with people. Ever. But Emma had to know just how much he loved her.

Emma's cheeks turned red as she smiled and leaned into Stiles, nuzzling her head in his chest. He sank his head down and kept his lips on her forehead.

"_Awwww_!" Stiles looked up to see Scott walking past them, carrying his textbooks and lacrosse gear. His brown eyebrows rose up at Stiles, accompanied with a haughty grin. Emma rose from her nestled position and looked up to Scott, who had stopped in front of the couple.

She softly chuckled and turned her attention back to her locker.

"You all set for practice?" Scott asked. Stiles nodded. "Coach seems frantic about the game tomorrow."

"More frantic than usual?"

"Yeah," Scott replied, adjusting the strap of his duffel bag, "Apparently Westbank has a really, really good team. Undefeated since the beginning of the season."

"I bet I'm a better benchwarmer than their benchwarmer, though," Stiles answered, causing Emma to laugh as she shuffled through her agenda.

Scott smirked and stepped back, "I'll see you soon." Stiles grinned, knowing Scott not only meant at practice, but later that evening. It was a full moon and Stiles told Scott he'd help him out.

"So, a game tomorrow?" Emma asked, finally closing her locker and facing Stiles again. Stiles nervously licked his lips and gazed at his girlfriend.

"Why? You want to see this hunk sitting on a bench for a couple of hours?" Stiles boasted, flipping imaginary hair behind his shoulder.

"You know I do," Emma responded with a giggle. A moment of silence passed through them as they watched each other's eyes. "Good luck at practice." Stiles felt a smile pull on his lips. He stretched out his arms to pull her in. He felt her small hands firmly press against his stomach as she rested her cheek in the middle of his chest.

"Thank you," he quietly whispered. To Emma, it was a simple thank-you for her kind wish. To Stiles, however, it was a thank-you for all she had done. For the person she was.

Stiles felt Emma raise her head, her chin now pressing against his chest. He looked down, their noses only inches away from each other. The tension he felt with Emma since he met her had only grown stronger, and he had to fight against the urge to press her up against a wall and touch every inch of her body.

They stood in a painful suspense, lips hovering, waiting to join together. Emma finally took the final step and softly pulled the back of his neck down with her hand. Emma's warm lips pressed against Stiles'. She pulled back, nervously looking around and biting her bottom lip.

"Can you come over tonight?" she asked, with a lust in her eyes that Stiles had never seen. Stiles felt his face burn. He grinned at her and slightly nodded.

Emma's face suddenly turned to concern, her lips slightly parting as she looked down. Oh no. Did he make her uncomfortable? Did she only say that to make him feel better? This sexual tension wasn't really there… it was just him being attracted to her. Unrequited.

"Hey, what- I can," Stiles stumbled over his words, "It's okay, I don't have to come over-"

"No, no, no," Emma quickly shook her head, gripping his forearm, "I just… I just remembered about how I have to go home now… and- and talk to my dad about…" She sighed heavily, her eyelids dropping.

"Babe," he groaned, reaching out to touch her shoulder. He had no idea what to tell her. There was nothing that would make this process easier. She knew the secret her own father had been hiding from her. And now she had to confront him. She sucked on her bottom lip and scrunched her eyebrows together in frustration. "You'll be okay. You've faced so much and you've survived. You can survive anything."

Emma's eyes shifted around and Stiles did so as well, seeing that the corridor had completely cleared up. It was just the two of them.

Emma glanced up at Stiles with wide eyes. He saw them beginning to shine, a gloss pooling over the chocolate-coloured eyes he loved so much. His heart suddenly lurched –seeing her so sad shattered him. He exhaled, trying to get rid of the massive weight sitting on his chest.

"It's going to be okay, Emma," Stiles told her as firmly as he could, "It's going to be okay."

She looked back down, sniffling. She nodded quickly and took in a deep, long breath. "You're right," she answered.

"Fuck practice," Stiles muttered, seeing Emma glance up at him quickly in alarm, "Let's go somewhere. You and me. You don't have to be alone in this." Her frown turned into a small smile.

"You can't do that, Stiles," Emma told him. Her voice was optimistic and happy –she was protesting it, but he knew she didn't mean it.

"Too bad," Stiles shrugged, smiling with his eyebrows raised, "Because I'm doing it."

"Stiles," Emma mumbled, dipping her head slightly to the side. Stiles gripped Emma's hand and led her around the corner and down the hallway, the next destination being his locker.

"Your dad isn't even home until later tonight, right?" Stiles asked, looking back. Emma shook her head 'no' and leaned close to his locker, just like he always did to her.

"Exactly," Stiles matter-of-factly said, "I have the strangest craving for curly fries." Emma chuckled, pushing a strand of butterscotch hair behind her ear. He loved knowing he was the reason for the beautiful smile on her face.

He gathered his things and walked out of the school, holding Emma's hand. As they exited the school about to begin their spontaneous date, Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew he'd be able to help Scott when he turned that night. But a full moon meant everyone who was a werewolf would turn. And that included Emma's father.


	33. Warm Up

_Your reviews are lovely and all of you are lovely and I JUST LOVE YOU. Thank you so much for your kindness and patience, each and every one of you. 3_

**Emma's POV**

Emma closed her eyes as the breeze coming through the open car window pressed against her face. She felt as if the tight knots in her aching head were coming undone. With every rotation of the wheels taking her and Stiles further away, the tension diminished.

"You know what I think?" Emma asked, her eyes still shut and head resting back.

"What do you think?"

"That we'll soon be the unhealthiest couple at school." Stiles' deep chuckle resonated over the sound of the buzzing radio.

"Who ever said fast-food was unhealthy?" he mocked with another laugh. It was moments like these that made Emma feel like everything would be alright. The autumn breeze rolled through her hair, smoothing over her cheeks and down her neck. One of Stiles' mix cd's whirred under the sound of the quick draft.

"Aren't you going to get into a lot of trouble?" Emma quickly asked, snapping her gaze back over to Stiles. Stiles pulled a careless smirk and shook his head.

"You should try breaking the rules more often," he answered, "And besides, no-one will even notice."

"But you're the best bench-warmer, you even said it yourself," Emma teased. Stiles momentarily took his right hand off the steering wheel and poked Emma's side. She jerked back, laughing and curling up into a ball.

"I better text Scott and let him know," Stiles mumbled, "Even though when he first started dating Allison, he totally forgot I existed." Emma pulled her arm out and rubbed Stiles' shoulder.

"I won't forget you exist, I _promise_," she told him in an over dramatic voice. "But I _did_ hear that Northback's bench-warmer is really cute so-"

"You mean Westback."

"Same difference."

The Jeep pulled into the fairly empty restaurant parking lot and stopped in the corner of the vast slab of gravel-covered cement. A great willow tree hung over this part over the lot, leaving a shadow over the Jeep.

"Alright," Stiles mumbled, pushing the gear into park, "I'll be back in about an hour. I'm sure you have a book or something to keep you company-" Emma laughed and playfully slapped his forearm. She took off her seatbelt, inching forward in her seat and turning to Stiles.

The way his hand so suddenly cupped Emma's cheek shocked her, sending surges of lightening throughout her body. He leaned forward, lightly guiding her head closer to his. His lips creased over hers, her eyelids falling to allow the full delight of his touch. A kiss so spontaneous made her heart beat faster –even faster than it already was. She suddenly felt herself parting her lips, a small moan escaping them. Goosebumps spread over her arms, which were now adorned over Stiles' shoulders. She disconnected her lips from his, grinning. She knew she wanted to go farther with him. But what if she was a bad kisser? She'd never done this before. And if they _did _go even farther, she would only embarrass herself with her inexperience.

She opened her eyes to see Stiles' eyes, a sea of copper she'd willingly get lost in. Emma let out a nervous chuckle, her desire to be close to Stiles creating a heat in the pit of her stomach.

"You _are _hungry," Emma said with a chuckle, immediately regretting the words as soon as they whistled out of her mouth. Stiles suddenly looked down, his dimples caving into his cheeks as laughter erupted from his chest. He looked back up, curbing a smile. The edges of his lips fought against the grin, and he finally beamed at her.

Without a word, he opened his door. She did the same and got out of the car, closing the door and rounding around the Jeep to find Stiles already waiting for her, hand stretched out. She put her fingers in the comfortable spaces between his and walked towards the diner.

"And curly fries on the side, please," Stiles kindly answered the waitress, handing her the menu with a grin.

"Alright," she chirped, taking the menus and walking away from the table.

"I'm surprised she didn't already know your order," Emma told Stiles. He looked at her from across the table and chuckled.

"I think she does, she's just being polite," Stiles answered, "You should know –as one of the most polite people on this planet."

"When will you stop teasing me for that?"

"Probably never." Emma laughed and took another sip of her root beer. The fizzing drink ran down her throat. She looked back up at Stiles from across the table to see him already looking at her. Everything seemed so simple when she looked at him. Life didn't seem like the big, scary thing it was. She didn't have any worries troubling her or any fears distressing her. His eyes offered hope and courage. A small strip of sunlight erupted through the large window beside them, suspended over Stiles' jaw, illuminating his ruddy, slender lips.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, a soft blush powdering over his cheeks. Emma looked into his warm chocolate pudding eyes.

"That's funny."

"What?"

"I'm always the one who asks what _you're _thinking," Emma remarked, slowly running her teeth up her bottom lip, "How's it feel, Stilinski?"

"Unsettling," he answered with a chuckle. He adorably cocked his head to the side, scratching his neck.

"Aw," Emma giggled, placing her hand down to the center of the table, "I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable." Stiles' almost automatically rested his big, warm hand over hers.

"I honestly don't think you ever could… nervous, yes. But not uncomfortable." She looked down at their hands, then back up to his copper eyes. Joking and teasing took up a big part of their relationship, which she absolutely loved. But she adored how quickly the mood could be reformed into solemnity. Emma quickly inched forward in her seat, sitting on the edge. Her knees made contact with his. She wanted to be as close to him as possible. She wanted to be pressed up against his body, taking in his fragrance and feeling his hot skin.

**Stiles' POV**

The thumping of his heart against his chest was just about driving him mad. The tension between him and Emma was nearly unbearable. She mirrored him, with big doe eyes and red lips that looked like petals brushing against each other.

"Nervous?" she finally asked. The dim restaurant chatter hummed behind him, glad they had the corner booth, the quietest place in the dining area. Thankfully, the radio wasn't too loud either. All he could clearly hear was Emma's soft voice and the sound of his heartbeat.

"Yeah, but in a good way," Stiles answered. Emma's other hand rested against the table as she relaxed her chin in her hand. She had a constant grin on her face. So did he.

"Continue." Stiles licked his lips, looking down at their hands. He slid his fingers down hers, propping them up and lightly squeezing them. She played back with him, the tips of her fingertips lightly stimulating the sensitive back of his hand.

"You know… when –when your heart beats really fast," his voice had hushed down to a mumble, "And you get goose bumps?" Emma's hand trailed up his, pushing back the fabric of his sweater. She lightly ran her fingernails between his wrist and base of his fingers. He felt soft pricks at the back of his neck, his heart beating faster than ever before.

Stiles' watched Emma's eyes dart up as she quickly pulled away from him. He sighed, trying to catch his breath as the waitress placed their meals on the tables, the light clack of glass hitting table-top tearing him from his daze. Emma kindly thanked the waitress and grabbed the ketchup, ritually drowning her fries in the red liquid.

He wanted to be in that moment forever. In his favourite diner, smelling the scent of his favourite meal, sitting across from his favourite girl.

"I don't even think we had restaurants with curly fries in Roseburg," Emma mumbled, snapping the lid of the ketchup bottle closed. She looked back up at Stiles with a grin, "You think there was a state-law against them?"

Stiles chuckled, "I knew you only moved here for low preparation time junk food."

"Keep it between us, yeah?" Emma responded with a smirk on her pretty face.

"Tell me about what it was like living here."

"Like here, except there was no cute boy that I drove around with, who had an unbelievably enormous collection of cd's." Stiles chuckled, picking a sesame seed off the fluffy, taupe burger bun in front of him.

"Seriously." Emma glanced up at him and then back down to her fries.

"Well," she began, "There was a really pretty creek right behind the fence that closed off my backyard. I miss that."

"What else do you miss?"

Emma thoughtfully chewed a crispy fry, "Sometimes we'd go to the state park… the coastline was gorgeous from there. And I really liked a lot of the people I went to school with."

Stiles smiled at her, taking a sip of his drink. He loved listening to her. He wanted to hear absolutely everything she had to say.

"It's odd." She quickly went silent, looking back down at her food.

"What is?"

She paused. "How unpredictable life is. I had no idea I'd meet someone like you." Stiles felt the uncontrollable grin grow on his face.

"Me neither," he answered.

Emma chuckled, tossing a strand of butterscotch hair behind her shoulder. "You can't expect this stuff. It just happens."

"Do you miss it there?"

"A little bit. I miss what I had there." Stiles swallowed hard, knowing exactly what she was referring to. The full family she had there. "But I –I do like it here. I don't know, I thought it'd be terrible."

"Well, no-one wants to leave the place they call home." Stiles felt Emma's gaze on him. He looked back up to see her bemused expression. Her lips were in a small smirk.

"Exactly," she remarked, "And I had you to make the adjustment easier."

"You sure I didn't just _distract you_ from your studies?" Stiles teased, lingering on her last, meaningful words. Emma scoffed and snatched one of the curly fries off his plate and popped it in her mouth.

"For every insult, you lose a curly fry, Stilinski." Stiles looked up with a sarcastic scowl, shaking his head. Emma brought her hand up to her face, covering her mouth as she laughed. She squinted as she chuckled. Adorable crinkles formed around the corners of her eyes as her delectable laughter filled his ears.

He could only stare at her as her laughter faded. She bit her bottom lip –her trademark signature for nerviness. Her big, chestnut eyes bore into his, "You're doing it _again_, Stiles! Staring at me and not saying anything!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he laughed, grabbing the paper napkin beside him and waving it as a white flag. "You win, I'm sorry."

Emma reached her arm towards him, giving him a light pinch on his cheek. "You're cute," she mumbled before putting her attention back to her food. The butterflies in his stomach went frantic.

Stiles felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He whipped it out and saw Scott's reply to Stiles telling him he wouldn't be going to lacrosse. '_Don't do anything I wouldn't do :)' _He mockingly rolled his eyes at the message with a laugh and took a bite of his burger.

After a dinner full of laughter and conversation, Emma and Stiles walked out of the diner, hand-in-hand yet again. The wind had already begun to become chilly, pressing against the back of Stiles' neck.

"Race you!" Emma suddenly shouted, bolting towards the Jeep. Stiles laughed and followed behind her, quickly catching up with her. They reached the vehicle quickly, but it was clear that Emma won the race.

"I'm not even going to pretend that I let you win," Stiles chuckled, tossing his keys in the air. Emma chuckled and playfully slapped his behind.

"Good game," she stated in a deep voice. Stiles turned around with a gasp to see her mischievous grin. "What? Just a good ol' athletic butt slap." Stiles laughed yet again and grasped her wrist, pulling her forward. He dipped his head to down to meet his lips with hers. She quickly responded by drawing closer to him, placing each hand on each side of his neck. Stiles grasped her small waist, sucking on her bottom lip. Emma pulled back, letting out a quick breath. God, he didn't want her to think he was an uncontrollable, hormonal teenager. Well, he was. But he didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable. Ever. He just couldn't help himself with such a beautiful girl in his arms.

**Emma's POV**

Pressed up against his body, Emma could barely restrain herself. The way Stiles' body towered over hers. The way his lips tasted. The way his musk brought her pleasure in the pit of her stomach.

She looked up at Stiles to see a worried expression washed over his face. It finally clicked that he was probably concerned that he made her feel uneasy. She didn't want him to ever think that he could frighten her that way. She wanted him in every way.

To prove his thoughts wrong, Emma leaned forward again, slightly on her tip-toes. Stiles pushed back with a nudge, kissing her back. They stood in the corner of the gravel parking-lot, the sky a dark indigo. She closed her eyes to feel his lips massage hers, strong hands gripping the sides of her waist, torso pressed against hers. Emma slid her right hand up from the side of his neck to his coarse hair, lightly stroking the back of his head. Her stomach was completely numb –as it always was when she kissed him. She felt his lips part from hers, but only for a second. He turned his head the other way, puckering his mouth against hers again.

Their lips separated. Emma stepped back onto her heels and slowly opened her eyes, to see his had turned into a darker hazel. She searched his face, admiring every beauty spot and freckle scattered over his light face.

"Can we hang out at your house for a bit?" she asked with a grin. She wanted to be with Stiles. And just him. Somewhere no-one else was. Not in a crowd-filled diner or a cold parking lot.

"Yuppers," Stiles stuttered, grimacing at his word-choice. "I –I don't know why I used that word." Emma laughed at his awkwardness. It was truly something she loved about him. Her hands moved from his neck, down to his shoulders, and finally to her sides. She raised her eyebrows at him and turned around to circle the Jeep. She mounted into the light-blue vehicle and rubbed her hands together, hoping to warm up, at least a little bit.

Stiles started up the engine, immediately turning on the heat. The song they were listening to continued from the moment it was previously interrupted. Emma turned the volume knob to the right, and brought her legs up to her chest, resting her cheek on her knees. She looked at Stiles as he drove, constantly checking the mirrors and licking his lips. God, it was such a sexy habit he had. His thumb tapped against the steering wheel and he began to subconsciously sing along to the song. She wanted him to sing louder, to hear his wonderful voice, but didn't want to embarrass him.

He continued to mouth to every memorized lyric, slightly nodding his head to the beat. They stopped at a red light. Stiles looked over to Emma and suddenly turned red in the face. His dimples sunk into his cheeks as he cutely grinned.

"Don't stop on my account." Stiles chuckled and dipped his head down to the side, pressing his temple against his shoulder. Emma continued to gaze at him as he drove, admiring his slightly upturned nose and humble Adam's apple.

They pulled up to the empty driveway of Stiles' home. Looking at her watch, she knew she had a couple hours until his father would be home. And thankfully, it was the same case for her own father. Then she'd have to talk to him about… No, she didn't have to worry about that now.

Stiles parked the Jeep. He looked over to Emma, tilting his head so it would mirror hers. "It's too warm in here to leave."

"Alright, I'll meet you inside."

"Stop doing that!" Emma snickered, pulling her head up and stretching out her limbs. She exited the vehicle and followed Stiles to the entrance of his home. He opened the door and she impatiently shuffled in behind him, pressed against his back. Emma closed the door behind them and kicked off her boots, quickly rocking back and forth, arms crossed. She watched Stiles quickly walk to the end of the hall, where he tinkered with the thermostat. It warmed her heart to see just how caring he was.

He walked back towards her and took his sneakers off.

"So, what shall we do?" Stiles enthusiastically asked her, standing a foot away from her with his hands on his hips. Emma looked down at the hardwood floor beneath her as she took small, slow steps towards him. With her arms still crossed, she finally reached him, resting the side of her head against his chest. Emma felt his chin relax on the top of her head.

"Warm up," Emma mumbled. It felt as if she didn't even know what she was doing anymore. She didn't even know what she wanted to do. What she was certain of was that she wanted to be with Stiles. Feeling as safe as she did with him. Without another thought, Emma took his hand and went up the stairs. He followed behind her, in complete silence.

Were they about to do… _that_? There was a certain awkward tension building up in between them as they mounted the steps. She walked towards his bedroom, the door wide open.

"Sorry," he quickly stumbled, parting from her and scurrying into his room, throwing the disorganized clothing off of his bed. Emma rested against the door-frame, slightly chuckling at his adorable gracelessness. It was strange. They'd been in this bedroom before. But not like this. Not for this reason.

If that reason was even a reason. If that reason was actually happening.

Emma giggled as he unsuccessfully kicked the piles of clothing towards his closet with a concentrated expression. She sat on the corner of the bed, right against the edge, facing the door. Stiles turned around and looked down at her with an uneasy smile. She reached for his hand and pulled him down. He sat on the corner too, but on the perpendicular edge, facing the closet.

Emma leaned forward, lowering her head onto his shoulder. Soon, she bumped her head up to face him. Their lips were only inches apart. Finally, he broke the distance between them and leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers.

The room was completely silent. The entire house was completely silent. It was just them. Just their lips pressed against each other, expressing what words could never express.

He pivoted his body to face her. He slowly shuffled back until he was resting against the wall, barely breaking the kiss with her.

Emma had no control over herself now. She momentarily disconnected her lips from his, pushing herself forward. Stiles stared at her through menacing eyes, a look of excitement and surprise washing over his face. Her legs walled his, arms draped over his shoulders. Emma sat on Stiles' lap, feeling an easy heat in the pit of her stomach. He had his head tilted up, staring at her with eager eyes.

Emma leaned forward, parting her lips over his. Finally, she tasted the sweet tang of his tongue against hers. Their kisses turned into a slow rhythm, tongues dancing together. His firm hands pressed against the small of her back, pushing her closer to him. As his lips kneaded hers, she felt his excitement through his pants, against her midsection.

"Emm-" She interrupted him, stopping his lips with hers. She quickly pulled back, breathing heavily.

"I want you, Stiles."


	34. Good Luck

_I love you all so much, so so so so sorry for the wait on this one. Life got in the way. Your reviews are always greatly appreciated; they make me really really happy. Thank you for your patience, you all are lovely._

**Stiles' POV**

Emma's words instigated something in Stiles that he had never felt before. Her body very slowly slid back and forth while she sat on his lap. With his heart pounding against his ribcage, Stiles slowly raised his hands against the sides of her thighs, embracing her. Emma let out a small moan against his lips. Things were getting heated faster and faster. As Emma continued to nudge against him and kiss him, he couldn't shut up the voice in the back of his mind telling him to stop. Telling him that things were going too fast.

The Stiles in the moment held her tighter, unable to believe what was happening. He ran his hands up her back, gripping her hips tightly. He felt Emma's hands hover over his chest. So slow it was agonizing, she began to pull down the zipper of his hoodie.

However, the voice came back, _This isn't right. Not yet. You can't do this. She's going through a lot of shit right now. You need to stop._

Emma slithered her warms hands in over his rib cage once the zipper was completely pulled down. Her touch was unbelievable.

_Don't be an idiot. You love her. You love her so much that you're going to stop this._

Stiles suddenly pulled back from Emma's lips. He looked down, rapidly shaking his head.

"Emma," he finally breathed. He, Stiles Stilinski, was rejecting a beautiful girl literally sitting on his lap. What the hell had gotten into him?

"Hey," she purred, rubbing the side of his torso.

"Come on," Stiles softly said. Emma suddenly leaned away from him, her hands resting on his chest.

"What are you saying? You don't… you don't want…."

"No, no, Emma," Stiles stuttered, watching Emma's face fall, "I –I do. I mean, obviously, um, it's just…" Emma sucked her teeth and took in a big breath. A thick wall of awkward tension grew between them as Emma leaned back, slipping down from his lap and sitting on the bed. Stiles remained pressed against the wall, uncomfortably shifting in his jeans as Emma sat across from him, her legs pulled up to her chest.

Stiles watched Emma as she glared down at her hands, folding and refolding them. She looked utterly shattered, her lips turned down and her cheeks crimson red. A tiny, microscopic part of him was angry at himself for stopping what could have happened. But he knew it wasn't the right time. And even though his stopping it could have caused it never actually happening, it was better that way anyway. Silence filled the entire house as they sat across from each other, the only sound being the whirring of the heating system. Emma dipped her head down, slowly scratching her forehead in embarrassment.

"I just… I don't think…" Stiles knew what he was going to say just as much as Emma did. How could he possibly explain it to her? She'd regret this. She was only feeling vulnerable and angry and impulsive.

"I'm sorry, that was really… I don't know, that was really thoughtless of me –" Her voice shook with humiliation and distress.

"I just, I… I don't want you to do something you'll regret."

"Stiles," Emma spoke, finally looking up at him with hurt eyes, "I could never regret that… not with you." She still looked completely rejected. Stiles detected a heaviness in his body, feeling as if it was pinning him back against the wall. As much as he wanted to hold Emma, he couldn't. He took in a long, deep breath, reminding himself of what Emma had taught him. How important it is to tell people how you feel. How good it feels to let it out. So he did.

"You're going through a lot, Emma," he mumbled, his eyes darting around the room to look at everything but Emma's sad eyes, "I just… I don't know, I don't want you to do something you wouldn't normally do." His last few words ominously floated over their heads, waiting to be acknowledged and hinged. Emma only shrugged with a tight-lipped, artificial smile on her face. "Emma, you need to stop forcing yourself to be strong." She looked up at him, her lips slightly parted, as if she was teasing the words that wanted to come out, showing them a potential escape that would never be unlocked, giving them false hope. "I know what it feels like to hold in that pain. You need to stop pretending it's all okay."

"But I'm fine," Emma finally croaked.

"Please stop lying to me. And please stop lying to yourself. Take it from me… I would always hurt myself and a lot of other people pretending I was fine."

"But… but I don't think I can handle it, Stiles," Emma said, her words shaky, "Sometimes it feels like it won't get easier. Ever." Stiles felt the weight lift off of him, slipping out of the room, quickly followed by the stroppy tension. He sat up, leaning forward and putting his hands over her cold fingers.

"It only doesn't get easier if you don't… if you don't come to terms with how you feel." Stiles felt as if it wasn't him speaking. He felt as if someone else was reading his thoughts out to him. He supposed it was simply catalyzed with how at ease he felt in Emma's presence. She looked up at him with large, expressive brown eyes. He could see the hidden pain behind them. Stiles sighed, knowing how hard she was trying to look strong. But he didn't ever want her to put up a front with him.

"I feel pissed off," Emma began, "And I feel sad and I feel tired and I'm just… I'm just so fucking pissed off at the world, Stiles. I feel so selfish and so… stupid for saying it, but why did all this happen to _me_? Why me?" Stiles felt the urge to answer her, but wanted her to let it all out. Uninterrupted. "It's just unfair… And then I meet you, and you make me feel so much better and you make me feel understood for the first time in a million years –and I still put up a front with you. I deceive you like that… and then I get pissed off at myself. Because... it's just… my thoughts are constantly at war and I can't escape them. I can't…" Emma's chest quickly leaped up and down as she gagged on shallow breaths. Her eyes were glazed, the edges reddened. Stiles felt both concentrated, unfathomable sadness and long anticipated relief. She finally displayed her feelings out to him, no filter… no shield. And they were heart-breaking. How could she be angry herself for feeling the way she did?

"Emma," Stiles said, feeling her trembling under his hands, "You don't need to punish yourself for feeling the way you do. Let's face it; a lot of shit has happened to you. A lot. And you're allowed to feel how you're going to feel." Emma let out a long, tolerant breath. Stiles looked up to see her looking down, thick eyelashes concealing her eyes.

"How do you… how do you do that?" she asked him, shaking her head with a disbelieving smirk.

"What?" Stiles answered, feeling a smile pull on his lips upon seeing her reprieve.

"Just… just understand me the way you do," Emma answered, "Say the things you say." Stiles quickly shrugged, still gazing at her secretive eyelids. That was the best thing about Emma. The fact that he was simply just being himself… and it was a marvel to her.

"We just fit," Stiles purely answered. Emma let out a sweet chuckle and finally lifted her eyelids, exposing the eyes he loved so much.

"I've told you more than I've ever told anyone, I think," Emma told him, "And I feel vulnerable and wonderful." An adorable, sugary laugh glided through her rosy lips. Stiles squeezed her hands and leaned closer to her. She quickly grazed her nose against his and kissed him. Her soft, warm lips massaged his.

**Emma's POV**

Emma pulled back to gaze into Stiles' honey eyes. He was so unbelievably striking. Everything about him. The pattern of beauty spots scattered across his face. His inviting, distinct lips. The natural flush his cheeks had. And along with all that, he had a strong, loving soul. She knew she'd constantly think back to how she'd embarrassed herself. Practically pouncing on him the way she did. But she knew he stopped it for her. She knew that.

"I feel like killing zombies," Emma mumbled. Stiles chuckled and slowly brushed Emma's bangs back, out of her eyes. His warm hand pressed against her temple, making her close her eyes and smile.

"Let's go kill zombies, then," Stiles answered. Emma stood up, pulling at her clothes, readjusting and flattening. They made their way downstairs and Emma plopped down on the couch as Stiles began to set up the game.

"Remember the last time we played video games?" Emma asked, silently thinking of how smitten she felt seeing a peek of his boxers.

"Are you gonna hide behind me again?" Stiles looked over at her with parted lips and raised eyebrows. Emma shrugged as a smirk formed on her face. "That's a yes." Stiles grabbed the controllers and sat beside her. Emma leaned on his shoulder, then slipped forwards and draped across his lap, her elbow supporting her up. Stiles only let out another snicker, planting a kiss on the top of her head. His arm rested on her waist as he held in controller in front of himself. "Is this some kind of distraction tactic?"

"My plan is foiled," Emma responded.

"You can still try," he moaned, clearly content with their embrace. Emma chuckled, turning her head to look up at him.

"Don't you dare set it to _Horror _again," she warned.

"You want it on _Horror_? Okay, I guess."

"Stiles!" she whined.

"Emma!" he mocked. Emma laughed and turned her attention to the television screen. Just as the game began, she dropped her controller and hid her head in her hands.

"I can't," she mumbled, "Too scary."

The next hour was full of laughter and conversation between them. Despite Emma's constant habit of digging her head into Stiles' shoulder, not really from fright but from the simple desire to be close to him, Stiles seemed to be alright with it. Emma finally placed her controller on the coffee table and gave up. She pulled her legs to her chest once more and curled up next to Stiles, her hands wrapped around his arm. He teased her for giving up, but was shut up by a quick kiss from her lips. With reluctance, Emma glared down at her watch. It barely took Stiles ten seconds to notice something was wrong.

"Hey, why are you quiet? What's up?" Stiles paused the game and looked down at Emma. Emma evened her spine, sitting straight up.

"I have to go." Her words were heavy. Stiles' bottom lip faintly sank.

"Are you gonna be okay?"

"I guess I have to be," Emma answered. Stiles' eyebrows creased, lingering over his hazel eyes.

"You're gonna talk to him," Stiles said, more stating than asking. His head shook in shallow nods as he placed his hand over Emma's.

"You're more worried than I am," Emma half-chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't work. "Could you drive me home?"

"Of course," he quickly answered, "Of course I can." Stiles suddenly became very quiet. His movements were quick and controlled as he stood up with Emma and walked out of the living room. They slipped on their shoes and went out into the Jeep. Stiles started the vehicle, the engine softly grumbling. Emma settled in the cold passenger seat and watched Stiles glance behind him as they backed out of the driveway. She swallowed hard, wondering what was going on inside that head of his.

"It's okay, Stiles," she whispered. Stiles reached for the radio and turned the volume knob, the quiet guitar melody quickly turning into silence.

"What?"

"I'm gonna be okay," Emma replied, "I mean, it's my dad. Worst –worst case scenario, he freaks out that I know about that stuff. But, I mean, my only worry is how upset he's going to be."

"I know," Stiles sighed. He licked his lips, tapping his forefinger against the steering wheel. "I'm just…"

"Just what?"

"I'm worried, that's all." Emma felt a rush of heat in her chest. He was _worried. _She glanced over out her window, watching the greenery turn into emerald blurs as the car rushed quicker. Emma stifled a smile as she thought of how much Stiles cared for her.

"You don't have to be," Emma answered, surprised by her courage, "It's really… it's fine." Emma heard a deep breath depart from his lips.

"Yeah," he chuckled, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Emma replied, turning to look at him again. She reached out and stroked his forearm, the small stubbly hairs pricking her palms. Stiles smirked. Emma watched his profile, admiring the dimple admitting defeat and exhausting into his cheek. "After all this is over, we can congratulate ourselves with curly fries." Stiles threw his head back in laughter.

"Is that your answer to everything now?"

"Of course. Curly fries are literally the best."

"When we graduate, I don't even care about the diploma," Stiles said, his bottom lip jutting out, "Just give me a Styrofoam container of curly fries. That's the perfect _Congratulations._" Emma giggled with him and felt her muscles relax. After a few minutes, the car pulled into Emma's street. She felt her heart beat a bit faster. Her father's car wasn't in the driveway yet. But soon it would be. And she'd have to talk to him.

"Good luck," Stiles muttered as the car came to a stop, "Text me." Emma felt a smile pull at her lips. She thought back to all Stiles had done for her, not just today, but since they had met. Stiles' hands dropped to his knees with a slap. Emma put her hand on his, and reached forward. She placed her other hand on the back of his neck, pulling his lips to hers. Stiles let out a shy grunt, making Emma want to get closer to him. She didn't want her impulse to get the best of her again, so she reclined back and bit down on her lip. Stiles looked at her with kind eyes and a striking smirk.

"Okay," she replied, "Thank you." Emma grabbed her bag and gave his hand a final squeeze. She walked into her house, immediately settling down in the dining room and waiting for her father.

Within five minutes, Emma heard her dad coming through the front door. Emma nervously touched every fingertip to her thumb over and over again. He finally came into the dining room, setting his lunch bag down on the table. He quickly noticed Emma, looking at her with an unreadable expression.

"Dad, I need to tell you something."

"Yeah, I think you do," Bruce replied, sitting on the chair next to her. Emma fought the urge to shout. _He _was going to be rude to _her _about going out while he was hiding this secret all along? She exhaled. It was finally time to tell him. "You need to explain yourself, Emma."

"Explain myself?"

"Your behaviour has been… unacceptable."

"Listen to me for a minute, okay?" Her father raised his eyebrows and thinned his lips.

"I'm listening," he snapped.

"I saw something… last night. I went… to the woods. And I –I saw you." Emma's father clearly didn't understand. He leaned back with his arms crossed over his chest, shaking his head.

"What?"

"I saw you. I saw a part of you that you've been hiding, dad."

"Hiding?" Emma lost her temper.

"You're a werewolf! You're a fucking werewolf!" Bruce suddenly sneered, his eyes widening.

"I don't know what the hell you think you're doing, Emma but it's not funny."

"Will you stop lying to me?" Emma shouted, slamming her hand down on the table louder than anticipated. Her father's eyes were full of anger and confusion and fear.

"How did –how…" Bruce suddenly averted his eyes away from his daughter, shaking his head.

"Why have you been lying to me? How long has it been, dad? My whole life?" Emma felt hot tears building on the surface of her eyes. They suddenly spilled down, each drip of sadness heating her cheeks.

"Emma, listen to me. I –I don't know why you're saying this stuff. I don't know what you think you saw. I think you need to rest."

"No!" the volume of her own voice nearly startled her, "Cut the bull, dad! You know _exactly _what I'm talking about. Stop lying to me." Emma felt herself trembling. She pressed her hands against her thighs in hopes to stop her shaking legs, but it didn't help. She heard her father take a long, deep breath. After a few seconds, he mumbled something very quietly.

"What?" she asked.

"I didn't tell you for your own good. So you wouldn't live in fear." Emma listened to her father as he told her that he was infected at nineteen. He kept saying _"After I was infected" _and _"The infection took my life from me." _Emma listened to her father in complete sympathy. Her anger was gone. The more he told her, the less resentment she felt. He told her how long he struggled with the problem. The full moons were his second biggest problem. The first was his pack. It took him years to break free from them. No matter how much they told him he couldn't live a normal life, he was determined to marry the woman he loved and have a family.

"Did Mom know?" Emma's curiosity forced her to ask. She regretted it immediately.

Her father nodded, "I told her. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do, Emma. But she accepted it. And then it was my fault…" His voice cracked. Emma gazed at her father, uncomfortable to see him in such a state. He was always such a _everything is a matter of business _kind of person. He never showed weakness to his daughter. Until now. "It was my fault," Bruce began, "that she and your sister are gone." Emma felt as if a sharp dagger pierced her heart. As if something squeezed all the air out of her lungs. She bent over in the chair, her throat suddenly dry. Her father and her sat in the dining room in complete silence. Emma's thoughts were a complete mess. Mainly, she could only consider the guilt her father had felt.

"How?" Emma's voice broke.

"It wasn't a car accident… The –the head of the pack, the Alpha… he said I had to either join his pack or the ones I loved would suffer. I don't know why I didn't do as he said, Emma. I just… I tried to convince myself he was just threatening me. Nothing else. Then… then he did what he did. And I had to get us out of there." Bruce took a breath. "If I did as he said… if I joined the pack… I'd have to leave our family. And I couldn't do that to the three of you."

"Oh my God," Emma mumbled. She had absolutely no idea what to say. She waited for her words just as much as her father was waiting for them. But there was nothing.

"I'm sorry you had to see that. I'm –I'm sorry that I'm this way. I'm sorry about everything, Emma."

"Jeez, Dad, don't be sorry," Emma stood from her seat and wrapped her arms around her father's neck. She was sure he could feel her trembling against him. They shared another long silence. She couldn't imagine the constant fear he felt. His entire life. She thought of the car accident and how she knew it wasn't just an accident. Something was intending to murd –to get her. If not, then it was some sort of warning. Was it the Alpha? Emma took another deep breath and pulled away from hugging her father. "We'll be okay, dad."

The sharp crush of shattered glass and snapped wood startled Emma. She felt as if her heart smashed against her ribs. She stared into her father's eyes as they heard a deep growling echoing from the hallway. Bruce slowly stood up, reached into his holster and slid out his gun.

Emma's father kissed her forehead and quietly mumbled, "I love you. Now run out the back door. As fast as you can."


	35. You Don't Sound Right

_Hope you like this one! Sorry it took so long... I spilled soup on my laptop so half of this was written with on-screen keyboard! I love you that much._

**Emma's POV**

Emma felt as if ice was rushing through her veins, spilling down her neck, surging into her limbs. She stared into her father's eyes as a sudden pang of fear filled her body.

"Go," her father persisted. She tightened her fists, feeling her nails cutting into her palms. The dull growls echoing from the hallway continued to sharpen, growing louder and clearer by the millisecond. Emma stared into her father's eyes, shaking her head. She stared down at his gun, knowing that he wouldn't be using it. He'd be using the other side of him… the infected side. "Emma, please. I can't lose you. You have to go. Go," he repeated sternly. Emma's words were trapped in her throat. She swiftly turned and darted to the end of the kitchen, her hand on the doorknob. She couldn't decide whether or not to turn around and gaze at her father one last time. _No, no, it wouldn't be the last time_, she consoled herself, _No, not the last time you see him. No. _Instead, she ragged the doorknob, sprinting out of the house and running into the dark backyard. Emma sought her cell-phone out of her pocket with unsteady hands. Her father needed help. And fast. She dialed 9-1-1, pressing the phone to her ear and panting.

"_911, what's your emergency?"_

"There's something –someone in my house," Emma cried, "My dad is in there –my dad –" The woman on the other end calmly interrupted the quaking teenage girl. After Emma caught her breath, hearing her thrashing heartbeat and the impetuous battering from inside the house, she steadily told the woman her address and an edited version of what the emergency was. Intruder. That was the word she used.

"_The police are on their way." _

"My dad _is _the police," Emma hurriedly answered, as if it would change anything. She heaved and dropped her cellphone on the grass, plummeting to her knees. The sound of struggling coming from inside the home dragged tears out of her eyes. She tried to mentally convince herself that the best idea was to run, but she just couldn't. Her legs were concrete.

Emma knew she should've been running away. She knew she couldn't defend her father. She knew remaining hunched over in her backyard was only making it worse –if the creature attacking her father noticed the frail daughter of a traitor alone, she was sure it would go after her.

But despite all this, she couldn't force herself to move. Until the idea of running in there and saving her father entered her mind._ You'll get yourself killed_, she thought. _But the guilt will follow you forever if you don't try._

_Dad said to go._

_He could be dying in there._

_What the hell could you do? Even if you got the chance… the miracle to hinder this thing defenseless… how do you even kill a werewolf? _

_Through the heart… that's the way to kill anything._

_You're going to die._

_I've lost everything. I'm not losing my dad, too. _With that, Emma silenced her conflicting thoughts and surfaced from her crouched position. She looked down at her hands, her rosy coloured palms momentary patterned with the imprinted sews of grass. Her heart felt as if it was beating itself into a powder. The breeze pressed against her skin, prompting her to discover sweat that coated the back of her neck. Her vision was beginning to blur as tears pricked the edges of her eyes, but she blinked them away. Pounding from inside the house rattled her, sending chills down her spine.

She turned back towards the house. Her chest violently sprung up and down with every thin breath she took. As she paced to the back entrance of the home, the familiar ping of her cellphone behind her stopped her. It went off again. And again. Someone was calling her. Afraid it'd attract the attention of the intruder, Emma rushed to the glowing device lying in the grass and habitually answered it, "Hello?" She mentally scorned herself for her thoughtlessness.

"Hey… it's me. Just checking up on how it was. With your dad." Stiles._ No. No._

"Good, good." Emma's words were jumbled and rushed. The evident fear in her voice shocked her.

"Are you okay? You sound –"

"Yeah," Emma interrupted him with an unconvincing tone.

"Hey, it's okay if you don't want to talk about it… yeah, I called way too soon. What am I doing? Expecting for this life-changing conversation to be what, like, five minutes long? _Hey Emma, now that your primary caretaker and you have finally discussed the paranormal, wanna go get a slice? _I'm so dumb sometimes; I just don't…"As Stiles rambled on, Emma tried to devise a way to get him off the phone. And fast. And without him knowing about the uninvited visitor in the house. Because if he knew, she was sure he would get there. Put himself in danger. And if anything happened to him…

"Yeah, it's okay… it was just a really intense conversation but I'm fine now an–"An agonized scream emanated from inside the house, prompting an involuntary whimper to twist its way out of Emma's lips.

"Oh my God, what was that?" Stiles urged from the other end.

Emma forced a chuckle, "It's just the tv, Stiles. Relax."

"Emma, you sound like… you don't sound right. What's going on?" Emma could sense the alarm in his voice. _Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He knew. Why couldn't she be better at this? No, no, she could do this. She could convince him that everything was fine._

"No, seriously, I'm just shaken up from the talk." A siren wailed in the distance. She was sure it was for the call she placed. She could only pray that Stiles didn't hear it from her end. And that he didn't have that police receiver near him to hear the last call to her address. Realizing how loud her breathing had gotten, Emma pressed the phone against her ear and lightly sighed, "I have to go now, okay? I'll call later." She hung up and tucked the phone into her pocket. Emma raced back towards the house again. Her legs felt as if they were made of cement. She stormed through the door, immediately hearing the unending shambling from the next room. Emma swallowed hard, seeing the dreadful litter that had become her dining room. The table had been disjointed into pieces and the glass vitrine had been thrown against the floor, leaving shards of crystal everywhere. She turned into the kitchen, slowly opening the nearest drawer and pulling out the biggest weapon she could see: a rangy vegetable knife. Tightening her grip on the knife's handle, Emma quickly stepped over the mountainous rubble consuming the dining room. Adrenaline's strong hands forced her body forward to finally turn the corner and look at the horrifying image in the living room.

Woolly figures stumbled and clawed at each other, surrounded by murky blood stains on the walls and furniture tattered to scraps. The creatures growled and whimpered, both fighting for their lives. Emma could immediately distinguish which was her father by the eyes that had watched her her entire life. He had the enemy pinned down, teeth snapping. She went forward, clutching the knife and pointing the blade to the rival. Her father abruptly sensed her, eyes full of dread. Her disturbance benefited the other wolf, easing him out of Bruce's grip and allowing him to spring up and pin her father against the wall. "No!" Emma's scream bellowed over the growling. She quickly drove the knife into the exposed back of the creature attacking her father. It shrieked, arms extended out to its sides. It snapped back to face Emma, its sharp teeth gleaming at her. It hurled towards her with its enormous mouth open and unconcealed claws extended. She elevated the dagger, imagining it puncturing the heart belonging to the creature that ruined her life, terror drowning her body. As she tensed her muscles, staring into the cold black eyes of the thing that was responsible for the death of her mother and her sister. As quick as the speed of light, the werewolf was thrown across the room. Emma was met with her father's pleading eyes. A whimper resonated from his throat as he nudged his head against her stomach, making her step back.

"Dad, I have to..." She couldn't believe it was her father she was speaking to. Her father. A werewolf. Staring at her, it rose to its hind legs, towering over her. "Dad," she pleaded. Emma stumbled back yet again once he shoved harder. A moan escaped his throat again, begging her to go. She didn't know if it was just her imagination or if her father was actually pleading,_ "Go... go... go."_ Emma sharply shook her head, her lips pressed together. "Dad, please, I-" She was cut off once his paw made contact with her side, flinging her out of the room. She hit the wall with a thud, glaring into the muddled living room and witnessing the endurance of the war between the two wolves. Emma remained at the bottom of the staircase, looking down at the knife in her hands, the silver stained with gleaming plasma. She stifled her irrepressible gasps, pressing her back against the wall. She couldn't look at the brawl anymore and she inched to the front door but quickly discovered it to be impassable, barraged with broken furniture. Emma looked back to the living room to see the alarming image of the other werewolf hurtling towards her. She tried to scream but nothing came out.

Instead, she bolted up the stairs, hearing a sad whimper behind her and praying it didn't come out of her father. She dashed into her bedroom and swung the door to close behind her. With weighty legs, Emma ducked behind her bed, falling to the floor. Her pulse was firm and swift, and it rang so loudly in her ears that she felt as if anyone within a five-mile radius could hear it. Everything else, however, was quiet. She wasn't sure when, but the shuffling from downstairs had vanished.

Emma winced once she leaned back against her nightstand, discovering how badly being thrown against the wall hurt her back. She shook as she sat there, still unable to believe everything that had happened to her. The house was consumed in silence.

Until slow, heavy footsteps echoed through from the hallway. They got louder and louder and louder by the second. If they belonged to her father, he'd be calling out to her. But he wasn't. It wasn't her father. That only meant one thing...

Emma remained on the floor, her knees pressed against her chest. She rocked back and forth, hugging herself tightly. As the footsteps neared her bedroom, her mom's face suddenly appeared in her mind. Tears pulled their way out of Emma's eyes as she focused on the ghost image of her deceased mother. Was this what happened before death? You pictured the people you loved who had already been touched by the other side? Her mother's eyes continued to haunt her as the pounding of her heart penetrated her ears. "Mom," she whispered, "I'm coming." Suddenly, the distinctive smash of an opened door colliding into a wall thundered into her bedroom. It was there. In her room. And it was time for Emma to die.


	36. It's Okay, You're Safe

**Emma's POV**

Emma remained curled up into a tight ball on the floor, watching the light from the hallway wash over her bedroom as the door was struck open in haste.

"Emma?" The familiar voice coming from the boy she loved gave her a transcendent surge of relief. She leapt out of her position, slightly dizzy from her swift change in footing. She reached for Stiles, who was standing by the end of the bed, and threw her arms around him. He eagerly hugged her back, his warm breath smoothing down the back of her neck.

"Stiles... Stiles..." She pressed her body against his, embracing him as if it would be the last time.

"Hey," he consoled her, "Hey, you okay?" Emma felt herself trembling in his arms. It was indescribable... the feeling of being sure she was going to die within the next minute... then the relief of knowing she wasn't. She couldn't believe it. Emma dug her nose into Stiles' linen shirt, the soft scent of his sweat tickling her nose. She finally let out the pressure of her breath, feeling her lungs narrow in her chest as she exhaled. "Are you okay?" Emma looked up at him, the light from the hallway illuminating his features. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"I thought... I don't... where is my dad? What happened? Where..." Emma choked on her shallow breaths, feeling Stiles' cool palms on her cheeks.

"Emma," he lowly said, "I don't know where he is." Emma's shuddered, a shaky breath slipping through her lips.

"No, no, he was just downstairs... how -how did you get here? Stiles, you could get hurt, what are you-"

"Hey, hey, it's okay, it's okay," he consoled, his eyes boring into hers, "Listen, there's no one downstairs. It's okay, you're safe."

"But my dad... where is he? He was just downst-"

"I know, Emma, I know. Breathe, okay? We'll find him."

"Let's go," she stated, stepping out of his grasp.

"Wait," Stiles said, reaching for her wrist, "Please wait." Emma looked back at him, his hazel eyes gleaming. She looked at him with a grimace, realizing how frantic she was being. "Please, just try to relax first." Suddenly, she heard the clang of an object hitting the floor. She looked down to see that the sound came from her, thoughtlessly dropping the knife she didn't know she still had. She looked back up to see Stiles staring at it, his lips slightly parted.

"Stiles, there was something or someone or... it was in my house and it went after my dad and I don't know what to do, Stiles, I don't know where my dad is or if he's alive or if I -if I got in the way and he... he died because of me, and I don't -"

"Emma," he sternly interrupted. He stepped forward, taking her hands into his. His eyes were focused on hers as he spoke, "Please, just breathe for a second, okay? The police are here, it's going to be alright. Do you understand?" Emma quickly nodded and pressed her lips together. She attempted to slow down her breathing. Emma felt Stiles' calloused palms pressing against the backs of her hands.

She breathed deeply, "I need to find my dad... I need to find him, Stiles." Stiles nodded, but didn't let her out of his grip. "Stiles," she repeated, only to be answered in the same way.

Emma sighed, pulling her hands back to her sides. She attempted to step past him but fed into her impulse and quickly tightened her hands around the sides of his neck, kissing him hard. She pulled back from his lips as abruptly as she approached them, meeting her eyes with his.

"What are you going to do?" Stiles asked with a quick shake of his head and eyes swimming in pain.

"Find my dad." Stiles looked down and swallowed.

"I'm coming."

"Stiles, you can't-"

"Emma, go, you're wasting time." Emma choked on a sob and sprinted out of the bedroom, dashing down the stairs. She felt Stiles' presence following her like a ghost. Red and blue police lights flickered through the large living room window, reflecting against the walls, plunging the first floor of the house in and out of shadow. Emma tasted blood on the tip of her tongue, a result of the mindless chewing she'd been doing on her bottom lip the whole night. Emma snapped her head back to the front door, seeing it was still completely blocked off with heavy furniture. Confirming that the only people in the building were her and Stiles, Emma ran to the back of the house. As she slightly stumbled over the clutter, she finally reached the opened back door. A gust of wind traveled through the door frame into the house, pushing the hair out of her face. She stood in front of the door and felt Stiles' chest bump against her back.

**Stiles' POV**

All that Stiles could hear was the furious wind from outside, and when it ceased, the sound of his girlfriend's short breaths filled his ears. He stared out at the vacant backyard, only to soon find it wasn't empty. A figure came out from the small shadowed field, advancing towards them. Emma timidly jolted against Stiles as the stranger stepped into the house, the soft screech of rubber depressing on the floor echoing through the room. A flashlight's blinding glow suddenly bit into his eyes. Stiles quickly gripped Emma's arm, tightening his fingers around her forearm.

"Are you two alright?"a low-toned voice came from the stranger. Once his vision settled, Stiles realized it was a police officer who was speaking to them. The teenagers countered with silence. "Let's get you two some help," the man patiently said. Stiles realized his father was most likely close; outside, probably. What would he say if his dad asked him what he was doing there? Well, the truth. That Emma sounded upset over the phone and he decided to come over. But with Stiles' crime-scene crashing record, his father wouldn't believe it. No way. Stiles pushed the thought to the back of his mind. It didn't matter. All that mattered now was Emma.

"Okay," Emma softly choked, "Thank you." Stiles watched her shoulders rise as she took in a deep breath. Emma slowly traipsed forward, detaching her arm from Stiles' grip. Losing contact with her so suddenly cast an empty chill through his body. Emma quickly turned her head and looked at Stiles with distressed eyes. She extended her arm to him and bit on her swollen bottom lip, waiting for him to take her hand. Stiles fleetingly grazed her hand and slid his fingers in the spaces between hers. She clamped her hand, holding onto him as if she would lose him if she didn't.

They stepped outside into the brisk night as the officer led them around the house, flashlight pointed, hand over the gun in his holster. Turning the corner suddenly fused them with the swarm of people occupying the front yard and driveway. Stiles took in the sight of the hushed crowd, strengthening his hold on Emma's hand. The officer that was accompanying them held a tight smile and motioned to them to move forward. Stiles' father seemed to come out of thin air, looking at Emma warmly. He then noticed Stiles, then how his son's hand was intertwined with Emma's, a puzzled expression washing over the man's face. Stiles could practically hear his father thinking that he had to focus on the important part, the crime, the victim. The association of that word with Emma sent a pinch to his heart.

Another figure quickly appeared beside Emma, causing her to quiver once again. "The house is clear, sir," the officer said with haste. Stiles' father nodded and thanked him, then turned his attention back to the trembling girl.

"Miss. Landson, are you okay? Are you in need of any medical attention?" Stiles watched as Emma shook her head _no__, _her brown eyes wide. "Alright, we're going to take you to the station, okay?"

"What about my dad? Do you know where he is? Where- where is he?" she asked with a shaky voice. The Sheriff looked at her with sympathetic eyes.

"We- we don't... what's most important now is that you are in a safe environment, okay?" A medic approached them, holding a brown wool blanket. She silently nodded to Emma with a smile. Emma replied with a nod back and the woman placed the blanket over Emma's shoulders. Stiles could see that Emma wanted to speak, she looked like she was about to burst, in fact, but she only acknowledged the Sheriff's statement with a quiet dip of her head. Her eyelids dropped as she stared at the ground, her urgent eyes suddenly turning somber. Tired. She looked so weak. So beaten.

"Thank you," she said, not being clear to who exactly she was speaking to. The utter powerlessness Stiles felt ate away at him. It seemed that all he ever did was watch the girl he loved suffer. He never stopped the pain. He just watched.

Emma detached her hand from Stiles' grasp and crossed her arms, looking up at the Sheriff.

"Alright," he softly said, putting his hand over her shoulder and leading her away from the house. Stiles dug his hands into his pockets, sharply taking in a breath, watching Emma being led into the backseat of a cop car. She bleakly sat down, pulling the blanket tighter against her body. The car door was shut, hiding her behind the tinted glass.

"Dad," Stiles called, jogging to his father, "Dad, let me go with her." He was met with steely eyes.

"Stiles, I don't- I don't even want to have this conversation right now. What the hell are you doing he- can you comprehend how bad this lo- no, we'll talk about this later. You go straight home and you stay there." His father's words were spat sharply and angrily. Frustrated, Stiles quickly shook his head.

"No, she can't just... she can't just be forced to go through all this alone," Stiles bickered. They looked at each other with serious expressions. They hadn't spoken like this to each other in ages. But this was important. Emma was alone and scared and she needed someone. Someone who'd hold her. His father only pointed a finger at him with clenched teeth.

"Go. Home."

**Emma's POV**

The adrenaline that had been surging through Emma's body took its toll, finally slipping away and putting her in a tired haze. She sat in the chilled vehicle looking through the window, the Sheriff's back facing her. She watched Stiles throw his arms up in frustration at his father. "No," she whispered to herself. She didn't want him to be so upset. She didn't want him to fight with his father. How did he even get there? When did the police get there? How long was that thing in her house? Where did her dad- _Stop. _Emma forced herself to shut out the thoughts. She watched her boyfriend's angular figure storm away, away from the house and out of her sight. Emma dug her face in her hands. What hell.

The drive to the police station seemed short, but Emma figured it was only because she kept dozing off in the backseat. Once she was sitting in one of the station's small offices and holding a paper cup of hot coffee in between her hands, the tiredness seemed to cease for a bit. The Sheriff sat in the chair across from her, a large oak desk separating them.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. Emma stared down at the russet beverage, her eyes stubbornly following the circle of where the coffee met the pearl inside of the paper cup. The _tick-tock _of the clock on the wall seemed to go slower than it was supposed to.

"Tired," Emma answered, her throat scratching with her words.

"I know you don't have any family nearby that you could stay with for the night, so you'll be in Victim Services tonight, after I take down your statement. Now, Victim Services is under strict surveillance at all times. It is secured. Alright?"

"Yes, thank you." Emma heard the rattle of a pen.

"Now, could you go through what happened before you placed the call."

"Okay," Emma sighed, feeling as if she'd be willing to do anything but that. She didn't want to relive it. "My dad... okay, me and my dad were in the dining room and there was just a really loud noise. I didn't- I didn't see what it was, or- who it was."

"Alright, then what happened?"

"Then, then my- my dad told me to run outside."

"Did your father look like he was expecting this? Did he seem prepared?" Emma snapped her head up to be met with the Sheriff's grey eyes.

"No, no. He was... I don't know, he just... I guess he knew something bad was happening and he wanted to protect me."

"Okay, so you ran outside and you called 9-1-1, am I correct?"

"Yes."

"And then?" Emma felt her heart quicken its pace. God, she had to lie to a police officer now. A Sheriff. Her boyfriend's father. He was trained to be able to tell when people were lying. Hell, even Emma knew how to tell when someone's being deceitful. Her father taught her that kind of stuff. He said it was good to know. The sudden image of her father's face in her mind sent a pang of anxiety through her body. She then thought of how she saw the ghost of her mother in her bedroom. The sudden rush of images and feelings caused Emma's throat to tighten, refusing her any air. She struggled through short breaths and looked down again, tears welling in her eyes. "Take your time," the Sherrif's voice sounded so loud. So, so loud. Emma stared down at the coffee again, tapping the cup with her fingernail.

"Then," Emma continued, "I'm sorry, I don't quite remember. I'm so, so tired."

"Okay, Emma, I'm going to ask you once more... and if you really feel like you're too tired right now, we can continue this later. Okay? Now, breathe. Relax. Tell me what happened after you placed the call." Emma took a sip of the coffee, the liquid burning the bitten flesh of her lip. _I ran back into my house and grabbed a knife and found my father fighting a werewolf and stabbed the werewolf in the back. _She shook her head as if she was shaking her thoughts away.

"It... it all happened so quickly."

"The officer that helped you found you in the house. What were you doing in there? Why didn't you stay outside?"

"Um... I think... I don't know, I didn't want to stay in the backyard... I felt like I needed to help my dad, I guess."

"And what happened when you went back into the house?"

"I, um... I stayed in the kitchen. I heard a lot of... a lot of stumbling and, and things moving, from the living room, I think. But... I stayed in the kitchen. And, and eventually the noise just stopped."

"Alright," the Sheriff said calmly, "And you didn't see anyone after you made the call? Not your father or any intruders?"

"Right," Emma said quickly.

"Okay," he replied after a few seconds of silence. Emma looked back up to see him closing the file, which relieved Emma. It was over. At least for now. "I'm going to take you down to Victim Services so you can get some sleep, alright?"

Emma was soon lying on an firm spring mattress, curled up in crisp, new pajamas and covered with a scratchy blanket. She wished she could just be home, but then again, she didn't really have a home anymore. Not a safe one. Not a happy one. As Emma laid in the dark, her tears moistened the pillow. Every drop that rolled across her face hit the cushion with a _tap. _Emma tried to keep her crying quiet. But her thoughts were ruthless. Just when she thought she'd be okay, her life had collapsed once more. It was official. As Emma gave into her heavy eyelids, she realized she was never going to have a normal, happy life.


	37. Why'd You Do That?

_Thank you for the reviews! I love you!_

**Emma's POV**

"Hey there," a soft voice lifted Emma out of her slumber. Her eyelids remained closed, cloaking her vision, allowing her body to only hear his familiar, calming mumbling and to only feel the blanket she was wrapped up in. "Unscheduled wake up call for the cutest girl in the world?" Emma felt a smile tug on the side of her lips, prompting a quiet chuckle to come out from the boy on the other side of the room. "There she is," he said, his smile apparent through his tone. Emma lifted her lids, suddenly staring at a glossy brick-veneered wall across from her. A silhouette moved in her peripheral vision. Emma tilted her neck, nudging the top of her head against the pillow. Stiles sat on a chair facing her, hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees and hands interlaced. He had a half-smirk on his face. The dark circles under his eyes were what Emma noticed next. Despite his clear fatigue, Stiles kept the smile plastered on his face.

"Stiles," Emma happily moaned, shifting her legs to prop up on her elbows.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like a zombie," she sighed.

Stiles chuckled, "Is that why you won't play Walking Dead? You feel discriminated against?" Emma let out a billowy laugh, tossing her head back, loose ends of hair from her misshapen bun falling against her neck. She looked at Stiles again. He had that look he always had after he made her laugh, a mixture of satisfaction and relief.

"Yes," she nodded, "It's not like I'm afraid of animated graphics or anything... it's for personal reasons." Stiles lowly chuckled, standing up and sitting at the end of the bed. He rested his hand on her knee, the blanket blocking an immediate touch. "How are you?" she cocked her head. Stiles replied with a shaky inhale, eyebrows raised and smile disappearing. For a minute, Emma had forgotten where she was and what had happened. For a minute. Now, the reality settled in, the numbing euphoria of sleep had slipped away. She was in a police station. Because her father was missing.

"How'd you get in here?" Emma asked.

"Oh," Stiles quickly took his hand off her leg, "Sorry, I can wait outside if-"

"No, no, I'm just asking because I know… I know you fought with your dad last night because of me. And there's no way you could've snuck into a police station, so-"

"We didn't fight, don't worry," Stiles shook his head with a squint, "I just... turned on the Stilinski charm." Emma chuckled.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah... basically pleaded for my dad to let me wake you." Emma giggled. "I thought- I don't know, I thought you wouldn't want to wake up alone in such a depressing room. It literally smells like old cake all the time in this building." Emma laughed once more, watching his dimples present themselves as he smiled at her.

"Well, thank you. I'm really glad you're here." Stiles licked his lips and looked down at his hand as he tapped his fingers against Emma's kneecap again.

"I'm sorry about what happened, Emma." Emma bit the inside of her cheek.

"You don't have to be, Stiles. I'm okay now."

"Emma, I've been with you long enough to know that you like to pretend you're fine a lot of the time, when you're really not."

"And I've been with you long enough to know you get uncomfortable with too many compliments, do you want me to start talking about how good that t-shirt looks on you?" Emma giggled, trying to lighten the mood, "Really. I'm okay." Stiles let out a small chortle, then bore his hazel eyes into hers. It was strange to see him so serious. He was normally such a goofball. But there was something in him that needed to be said.

"I wish I could make all this shit go away." Emma looked down, watching her chest rise and fall with every breath.

"Could you hug me for a little while?" Stiles quickly moved off the edge of the bed. Emma shuffled against the wall as Stiles sat beside her, the mattress sinking with his weight. He quickly put his arm around her, drawing her closer to him. She rested her head by the side of his neck, his firm shoulder acting as a pillow. His other hand came around, stroking the length of Emma's upper arm. The tip of Emma's nose nudged up against Stiles' neck. She left a small kiss by his collarbone and rested against him. She didn't want him to worry. She didn't want him to feel bad. If she said she was fine, even if it was a lie, it was still better than letting her sadness out and watching him guilt himself for not being able to help. She didn't want anyone to think she was weak. She wasn't a fragile little girl. She knew how to handle tragedy. At least, that's what she hoped.

After a minute of comfortable silence, Emma spoke.

"Stiles? How did you know to come over? Why did you- why did you go inside?"

"I could tell something was wrong over the phone," Stiles quickly responded, "I knew you were gonna talk to your dad about- shit, I'm sorry."

"For what?" Emma cocked her head up. He swore a lot when he was flustered. Emma found it a bit endearing.

"For mentioning him."

Emma sighed, "Stiles, it's okay."

"So, I um, I knew you were gonna talk to him and I figured it'd be difficult so I just wanted to check in. Then, I went over and I knocked and there was no answer… then the cops showed up just out of the blue, so I ran to the back to see if I could get in that way. And I did."

"But, Stiles, you- the cops showing up like that should've made you run in the opposite direction, God knows what could've been in there. Why'd you do that?" Emma prodded into his shoulder then rested on it again.

"I didn't care. All I knew was… you were in there and you were in trouble. And I couldn't let anything happen to you. Because… because I love you." The last words came out in a shaky tone. Emma's stomach dropped with the weight of a bag of rocks. _Did Stiles just...? Did he...?_ Emma kept her head against his shoulder, breathing against the side of his neck. She felt Stiles' dip his head, his jaw brushing against her. For some reason, she felt tears twisting in her throat, trying to crawl out and pool out of her eyes. _He loved her. _It was incredible hearing it from someone that didn't have to say it. Stiles didn't have to love her, he didn't have to be with her, he didn't have to be sitting in that room with her. But he was. And he loved her. And she knew she loved him.

They sat in silence. Emma drew in a long, deep breath. _Just say it back. You know you feel it._ She lifted her head off his shoulders and looked up into his dazzling eyes.

He glanced down, "I'm sorry if-"

She interrupted, "I-"

A sudden clout from the other side of the room startled her. She snapped around to watch the door open and see the Sheriff come into the room. He awkwardly looked to his side as Stiles took his arm off of Emma.

"Emma, when you're ready, we- we need to talk." The bliss of Stiles' last words was short-lived. The Sheriff gave a tight-lipped smile and turned, swinging the door behind him. It tapped against the door frame, not fully closing. Emma absentmindedly stared at the door. She felt the weight of Stiles behind her cease, a soft groan slipping out of his lips. Emma turned her head to look up at Stiles. He had the same forced smile his father had, passing her. She waited for him to look back, but he didn't.

"I'll be outside, okay?" he mumbled, digging his hands into his pockets, leaving the room with his head down. The door closed again, leaving her alone in the room. Emma put her face in her hands and groaned. It was too much. It was all too, too much.

After wiping away her tears, Emma changed into the clothes from the night before and made her bed. She left the folded pajamas she was lent on the blanket and slowly opened the door out of the room. The dimly-lit office was cold. Unwelcoming. She paced forward and looked through the windows that oversaw the busy station hallway. She walked out the small office and saw Stiles sitting in one of the chairs that made up a row against the opposite wall. He was staring down at his cellphone, looking utterly dejected. Emma swallowed hard. He must've been so upset. He had the guts to tell her he loved her, then she... she said nothing. Knowing she was the one that put the sadness into his eyes killed her. He looked up, locking his eyes with her. Her heart felt as if it hurled itself against her ribcage. Emma saw someone coming towards her from the corner of her eye and turned. The Sheriff looked back at her.

"Follow me, please." Emma looked at Stiles one last time to see his gaze still fixed on her. She gave him a small smile, which he mirrored. Her stomach fluttered a bit at his captivating smirk. Emma looked back to the Sheriff who was already a few steps ahead of her. She quickly trod behind him. They made their way to the same area as the night before, only this time it was more alive with people all over the place. They went into the same office and sat in the same positions. He spoke, "How are you feeling?"

"Alright," she lied. She immediately thought of her father. If they found him... if he was... alive... he would've been there. Still, she had to ask. "Where's my dad?"

The Sheriff looked down and exhaled. _No. No. No. _"We, we don't know." Emma felt a small rush of relief. That's better than him being gone forever. He continued, "We'll be putting out a missing person bulletin soon. Now, I want to just go over your statement one last time, alright?"

Emma went over the exact same speech she recited the night before. Lying that she didn't see who came into the house. Lying about almost everything. Finally, the Sheriff finished his last question regarding the statement.

"Now, we've decided that it's best, for your own safety, to not go back home yet." He rubbed his hands together, "That is, not until your father turns up and the identity of the intruder is known. Seeing that it's the weekend and you don't have any school, you're free to spend the day however you'd like. You can stay at the station or if you'd like to go out with a friend of yours to take your mind off of things, that's okay, too." They both knew he was referring to Stiles. He sighed again. He came closer, the stern look he had on his face disappearing. "Emma," now he was speaking to her as a friend, not as a victim, "We're going to work really hard to find your father, okay? He's a good friend of mine and we're determined to find out what happened and who did... what they did. If... if we don't find him by tonight, you're going to have to spend another night in Victim Services, okay?" Emma looked into the man's eyes and nodded.

"Yes, thank you," she pressed her lips together and stifled tears, "Okay." He stood up very quickly. Emma followed him out of the room and paced back into the large hallway. "There are some donuts in the break room if you'd like one," Mr. Stilinski said to her. She smirked at him.

"Thank you."

"I know, I know, it's a stereotype," he chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. They chuckled together. The Sheriff gave her one last reassuring nod and went down the corridor. Emma looked the other direction to see if Stiles was were he was the last time she saw him. He was. Reclined into the chair with his arms crossed and one foot resting on his knee, he sat. Emma walked towards him. He quickly noticed her and abruptly sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Hey," Emma softly spoke.

"Hey, are you okay?" He stood up, his eyes searching her face.

Emma looked down and quickly shook her head, "Can we go do something?" She raised her head as he stepped closer to her. Towering over her, he softly pushed the hair away from her eyes, letting his knuckles brush against her forehead.

"Of course we can," he answered, "Let's go."


	38. Of Course I Have

_Hello, lovely readers! I never do audio reads but I was listening to Interlude by London Grammar as I was writing this. Then, after that, Candles by Daughter. So, if you'd like to listen to something that reflects on the mood of this chapter, I suggest listening to that miniature playlist! Thanks, let me know what you think! :)_

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles stared ahead at the ashen stretch of road, the morning fog wavering over the horizon. _Did __you seriously tell her you loved her? _Stiles scolded himself, _You're officially an idiot. If it wasn't official before, it is now._

"Stiles?"

"Hmm?" Stiles fell out of his thoughts.

"Can we go to my house?" Emma asked with a tired voice.

"Oh, I- I don't know. Probably not. It might still be considered-"

"A crime scene," Emma finished for him. Stiles bit the side of his cheek and turned his head to look at her. Her legs were tucked up, chin resting on her knees. She was leaning against the car door, staring ahead. The bags under her eyes were dark, the natural blush she always had was completely gone. Stiles snapped his head back to stare ahead. With his gaze fixed on the asphalt and his hands tight around the steering wheel, he silently struggled with his thoughts. How could he blurt it out to her? Especially the way he did? Where he did? Stiles sighed to himself and bit his cheek again.

"I wanna look at the stars with you," Emma broke the silence.

"It's... it's not even noon yet," Stiles mumbled seriously. Stiles heard Emma's adorable chuckle. He looked over and as they shared their first genuine laugh since they got in the car.

"I know," Emma smiled, "I mean later." Stiles pressed his lips together and raised his eyebrows.

"Are you sure? It's okay if you don't quite know how the day-night cycle works. I can teach you if-" Stiles saw Emma sit up from the corner of his eye and felt her playfully nudge his shoulder as she chuckled.

"I don't need your teasing right now," she laughed.

"I'm not teasing.. this is a serious matter, Emma. How long have you been struggling with this issue?"

"_Stiles,_" she moaned, "Stop! I'm gonna... um..." Stiles glanced over to see her confused expression as she attempted to think up a threat.

"Oh no, the world's nicest person is going to settle the score, I wonder what she'll do. I should watch my mouth, she might just give me two cookies instead of three." Emma slumped over in her seat, chortling. Stiles felt a tremendous grin grow onto his face as he listened to her cheerful laughter. It made him so happy to see her so happy, especially when it was he that made her feel that way.

"I'm just going to stop talking," she stated. The Jeep slowed to a stop at a red light. Stiles looked over at her to see her arms crossed along with a clear smirk on her face.

"Oh, you're just gonna stop talking?" Stiles echoed. She nodded at him, the smile on her face slightly spreading. "You're really just gonna hurt my feelings like that?" Emma bit down on her bottom lip and looked down, thick lashes concealing her eyes. "Wow, I can't believe you're just gonna ignore me like that. I'm just a defenceless, innocent guy and you're going to do this to me." Emma giggled. "And you're laughing at my pain, wow." Emma finally looked up, revealing her chocolate-brown eyes again. She looked ahead and cocked her head towards the front of the car. Stiles looked over to see the light was green, then quickly checked the rear-view mirror to see that there was no one behind them. Stiles smiled and looked back at her, his foot still on the brake. "What? Are you trying to tell me something?" Emma grinned, bearing her teeth. She pointed to the light, widening her eyes at Stiles. "I'm sorry, I really don't understand what you're trying to say to me." Emma threw her head back. She closed her eyes, still smiling.

"Stiles."

"_Oooh! _The light is green, okay, I get it," Stiles half-shouted, releasing the brake pedal and driving ahead. Stiles could sense Emma shaking her head.

"Why are you so infuriatingly wonderful?" Stiles smiled at her compliment and shrugged his shoulders cockily.

"It's an unanswered mystery," he shrugged. Emma snickered and rested her small hand on the gear shift, palm up. Stiles quickly moved his right hand off the wheel and interlaced his fingers with hers. His thumb slowly stroked the back of her hand, slowly petting the small bump of her knuckle. He heard Emma happily sigh as she tightened her grip on his hand.

**Emma's POV**

Emma looked over at her boyfriend, the curves of his profile deepened by the daylight's faint glow. She looked down at their joined hands, contrasting how much bigger he was than her. She wondered what she would have done without him. It was the first time the thought crossed her mind. What if she and her father had moved to a different place? What if she had been put in a different school? What if she never chose to sit beside him in Biology? She bit down on her lip as she stared at his silhouette, the possibility of a world without him crushing her. _But you _do _have him, _she reminded herself, _That's what matters._

"D'ya wanna get some food?" Stiles' young, smooth voice plucked her out of her daze. He looked over at her, lips slightly parted.

"Yeah," she nodded and cleared her throat.

"Okay, let's pick something up then go to my house."

Emma smiled to herself, "I'd love that." They shared a comfortable silence. "Hey," she mumbled, "Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we never met?" Stiles swallowed, his Adam's apple slightly jerking.

"Yeah."

"You have?" Emma quickly asked, surprised.

He nodded, bottom lip jutting out, "Yeah. I totally wouldn't be passing Bio." Emma chuckled and dug her free hand into his shoulder, hard. She loved that about him- his jokes. His sense of humour reminded her so much of hers; she tended to be sarcastic and cracked jokes when she needed to be serious. The difference between them, however, was that Stiles began with jokes then slowly exposed what was really on his mind, whereas Emma would be honest at the beginning of a discussion, then would get tired of the serious mood and started making fun of the situation. They balanced each other out that way.

"Seriously," she urged.

"Well, of course I have, Emma," he answered, "I always wonder about that stuff. The _what-if'_s... I can tell you, though, if we never met that I'd still be an over-anxious flunkee who spent way too much time online."

Emma looked at him, her heart drumming, "And you're okay with your lame girlfriend taking your computer time away?"

"I'm okay with anything my _cool _girlfriend does," Stiles chuckled, looking over at her with big, bright eyes. She felt a massive grin grow on her face as he half-smiled at her, her cheeks sore.

"You make my cheeks hurt sometimes," she sighed, looking out her window to see they were approaching a _Taco Bell__. _"Ah, how did you know I needed a quesadilla?" Stiles laughed.

"I'm a romantic." They picked up their grease-filled lunches and were on their way to Stiles' house, blasting the local classic rock hits radio station. They were soon nestled in his living room, blankets draped over their legs and food in their hands.

"I feel like if happiness had a taste, it'd be this," Stiles mumbled as he sucked from the straw of his cup of soda. Emma snickered and nodded. She reached for the remote and turned on the television, finding a rerun of a soap opera. She turned her attention back to her meal then glanced up at Stiles, to find he was already looking at her with a glow in his eyes.

"Your hair is getting a little longer," Emma observed.

"Yeah, I know," he groaned, "I need to-"

"Don't you dare say you need to go get it cut. I forbid it." Stiles threw his head back in a laugh.

"I don't think I've ever seen you this serious. I'm scared."

Emma fought a smile, "Don't cut it."

"Why?" he insisted, cocking his head to the side with a grin.

Emma bit her lip and looked down, wiping her fingers on a napkin, "That was mean, I'm sorry. Do you what you want, okay?" Stiles chuckled, to Emma's confusion.

"You're _so _cute," he chuckled. Emma responded with a laugh. They spent the rest of their lunch watching and poking fun at the soap opera. After a few minutes, they were both reclined on the couch, feet on the wrapper-covered coffee table. Emma tipped her head back to rest against the soft couch and felt her eyelids get heavier, prompting a yawn.

"Aw, is someone a_ wittle sweepy_?" Stiles cooed. Emma smirked, her eyes closed. "You''re adorable," he breathed, his smile clear in his tone. She felt him grip her arm and pull her down. Consumed with an insistent darkness, her head sank into a pillow. Stiles' hands moved to her legs and he lifted them up so her body could be completely stretched out on the couch on her side. She shifted around to feel that the pillow her head was resting on was in his lap. "Comfortable?" he whispered.

"Mmh," she grumbled, settling her hand on Stiles' knee to feel the worn denim of his jeans. His fingers slowly ran through her hair, culling it behind her ear, sending a rush of pleasant pinches through her body. The rest of the world completely disappeared as she dozed off.

**Stiles' POV**

The sight of her heavy lids and peaceful sleeping pout made him smile to himself. Emma's breaths quickly turned from short to long, shallow to deep. He looked down at her, eyes travelling over her soft features. Her thick lashes looked as if they were resting on the swollen, tired lines under her eyes. Her lips were slightly parted as if she was about to talk, reminding Stiles of the time she murmured that she loved him in her sleep.

_ Technically she said it first_, Stiles thought. The sudden reminder of his embarrassing display that morning sent a sharp, uninvited pang to his chest. He rolled his eyes to himself. _Idiot_. Thinking of the way her eyes widened, the way her breath caught in her throat, the surprise and hint of fear that washed over her face... all because of how he said it, completely out of the blue.. it upset him. Why did he say it? Why then?

He threw his head back. He wanted to say it to her after they were together for longer. He didn't want to freak her out. He wanted to say it to her somewhere nice, not a police station. She deserved better. He looked down at her again, feeling immense sadness. She was exhausted in every sense of the word- physically, mentally, emotionally. It hurt him to know she was in such pain. But the thought of her being able to escape it all as she slept comforted him a bit.

He flipped through the channels and found a cartoon, deciding he'd watch it until his girlfriend rose from her slumber.

**Emma's POV**

Emma slipped back into consciousness, stirring in her position. She turned onto her back, eyes still closed. Stiles' soft breathing filled her ears. She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles then held her hands on her face to conceal herself.

"How long have I been passed out?" she mumbled, groggily.

"A good four hours."

"Four hours?" Emma half-shouted, ripping her hands off her face.

Stiles gave her a sly grin, "Like, 45 minutes." Emma sighed, smiling. She turned to lie on her side, back facing Stiles and eyes adjusting to the television's glare. She felt his large hand go down the curve of her hip then up again. She nuzzled into the pillow as he rubbed her back.

"That feels nice," she mumbled, "I might fall asleep again."

"You don't want to do that, this is a really good episode of Dragonball Z."

"You raise a good point," Emma giggled.

"Do you wanna watch the stars tonight?" Stiles asked.

"Really?" she answered, her happiness apparent in her tone. God, he made her feel good.

"Yeah, if you still want to."

"Yeah," she replied. Emma laid on his lap as the two of them remained in a comfortable silence, the only sound being the quiet humming coming from the television. Her mind quickly reminded her of all that had happened the past two days and she felt a cold, biting chill race up her body. She sat up abruptly, immersed in dizziness.

"Hey, you okay?" Emma nodded quickly.

"I just should check my phone," she answered, pulling it out of her pocket. She had an e-mail from a newsletter she forgot she signed up for, but that was it. She couldn't figure out if it was good news or bad news. She felt Stiles looking at her. She drew her attention to him to see his urgent, worried eyes. "Nothing," she whispered. Stiles sighed, looking helpless.

"Can I... is there anything I can do?" he croaked. Emma swallowed hard and laid her head back on his lap.

"Just be here, please."

"Of course," Stiles mumbled. Emma felt him bend closer to her, his warm breath washing over her cheek and neck. He left a pattern of soft, loving kisses along her jaw. _Just say it, _Emma internally yelled at herself, _Now is the perfect time, do it. _

But nothing came out. She knew she loved him. If anything, she was sure she loved him before he loved her. But there was something so painful about saying it out loud, because everyone that she had said it to... Emma stifled a sob, her body jolting.

"Hey, it's okay," Stiles squeezed her arm, "Breathe. Curl up into a ball, okay? Breathe." Emma did as he advised. She rested on the couch, painful whimpers cutting out of her throat. Would she ever be able to tell him she loved him? Would she ever be able to tell anyone ever again?


	39. Right Here

**Stiles' POV**

The rest of the morning was spent in a quiet, comfortable warmth. Emma's body was against Stiles' for the majority of the time in some sort of way, either leaning on him with her head on his shoulder or simply with her hand resting on his knee.

"Sorry I've spent most of the day practically lying on you," she chuckled as they watched a law firm commercial.

Stiles shrugged, "Dignity's overrated." Emma snorted. She slightly jolted as her loud ringtone suddenly went off. He looked at her and she darted her eyes to meet his. Emma shuffled to grab the cellphone out of her back pocket.

"Hi... yes... o-okay." Stiles watched as Emma swallowed hard and glared down at the floor, the phone pressed to her cheek. Her lips turned down into a frown, eyebrows sinking in sorrow and distress. Stiles reached for her other hand and softly stroked his thumb over hers. "Thank you... okay... okay, thanks." She hung up. She looked at Stiles, her lips parted. "Don't they... um, don't they say after a certain amount of time... missing persons... they're statistically known to not be found after that certain amou-"

"Don't worry about that, baby, don't worry," Stiles mumbled under his breath, trying to prevent a panic attack as he put his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her closer so she'd rest on his chest, "Don't worry." He could only repeat himself, which made him angry. Why couldn't he be better at this? Thankfully, he felt her trembles lessening.

"I'm so scared," she croaked.

"I know, I know," he whispered to her, "It's okay, it's okay." He could feel his heart striking with force and was sure Emma could feel it, too.

"They said they haven't found him... just wanted to check in... said they'd call me whenever something ha-happens." She sighed. "How long has it been?"

"Don't worry about that, okay?" Stiles was annoying himself with his repetition, but he had no idea what else he could possibly say. He could only hold her. He wanted to assure to her that they'd find her father. But, he couldn't make a promise like that. No one could. As he held the quivering girl in his arms, he realized what loss she must have felt. If something happened to Bruce... she'd have no one left in her life. Her entire family... gone. Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat. He had to be strong for her. But the fact that her pain was hurting him so much made him recognize just how much she was suffering.

His mind wouldn't stop replaying the previous night. The absolute catastrophe her house had become, the way she looked when he found her in her bedroom, how she kissed him once she realized it was him. The amount of fear and agony that Emma had gone through was inconceivable to him. He couldn't imagine how much strength it took to come out of the suffering she'd been through as a whole person.

Stiles pulled Emma closer, tighter to him. The side of her face nuzzled into his chest. His head sank to press against the top of Emma's head in an attempt to make her feel as safe and protected as possible. Her comforting scent danced on his nostrils as he held her.

**Emma's POV**

Emma silently remained in Stiles' arms. The world around her had become still. The television was just a muffled buzz in the back of her mind. All she could hear was her heartbeat drumming against Stiles'. In sync.

Yet again, Emma was left in complete awe. She couldn't believe this was her life. She still couldn't wrap her head around the events that had occurred in the past year. She still felt like she was in a dream- completely disconnected yet completed immersed.

"What am I gonna do?" she whispered more to herself than Stiles. Still, he answered.

"You're gonna stay right here," Stiles grumbled into her hair, lightly kissing the top of her head, "Right here." He tightened his grip around her as she shivered. She found herself mentally asking yet another question she'd been asking for ages- what would she do without him?

She just wanted her mind to shut up and her heart to stop hurting. She just wanted to be numb.

They stayed like that for what felt like eternity. Emma finally lifted her head off his chest to see Stiles looking down at her, pain washed over his face. He drowsily blinked at her. Emma studied his face, looking at every little beauty spot scattered over his cheeks, knowing they'd already been committed to memory. He opened his mouth to speak, but didn't say anything.

"You must be so tired," she said, upset with herself for not considering how he felt.

The edges of Stiles' pink lips twitched into a smile, "It's okay, I think you've slept enough for the two of us." Emma snickered and playfully nudged his firm chest.

"What kind of girlfriend am I, giving you sleep deprivation?"

"Clearly, you're so amazing, you make me want to stay awake and love the world I'm in."

Emma brought her hand up to cover her eyes and she laughed, "You're so corny. Don't ever change." Emma met Stiles' gaze and pressed her lips together as he looked at her. At that moment, it felt like they silently acknowledged everything they'd ever been through. His eyes bore into her, taking her breath away like they always did. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as her smile disappeared into a serious contortion. "I think you need a nap," she said, immediately smiling again.

"Tuck me in?" Stiles smirked. Emma giggled and inched out of his grasp, sitting properly on the couch with her back against the upholstery. She placed a pillow on her lap and patted it, smiling at him. He happily obliged and lay down on his back, head on the cushion, glancing up at her.

"Emma, I'm being serious when I say we're the unhealthiest couple out there. All we do is sleep and eat."

"Not true," she answered, bringing her hand up to run her fingers over his head, "We go to school sometimes." Stiles chuckled, exposing his gleaming teeth. He closed his eyes and nearly purred as she stroked his short hair.

"That feels really nice," he quietly moaned. Emma felt a fire sparking in the pit of her stomach as she watched him tilt his head back and heard almost silent moans erupting from his throat. She brushed away the feeling, smirking to herself. After a few minutes, his breathing quickly went from shallow to deep, his lips parting as sleep took over him. Emma looked down at him, admiring his features. If she wasn't sure she was in love with him before, she was sure now.

But she always sure. She just seemed to have the inherent inability to express it. She mentally cursed at herself.

Emma preoccupied herself with the television. She tried desperately to pluck out every emotion of negativity and fear that was polluting her mind. She was always like that. Letting sorrow take over just for a moment, then condemning it. After what felt like about twenty minutes, Stiles shuffled around and took in a deep breath. His eyes slowly blinked open and a smile grew on his face.

"I had a dream I moved into a grocery store," he mumbled, turning to his side.

"Make that dream a reality," Emma snickered. He let out a breathy chuckle and nuzzled into the pillow. She brought her hand up to stroke his head again, which was warm. He sighed happily. She looked down at him to see his thick lashes fluttering with every tired blink his eyes had. With another sigh, he sat up and stretched.

"Lunch?"

Emma laughed, which made Stiles looked at her with a puzzled expression. "Oh, you're- you're serious."

Stiles shook his head, "We have leftover mac and cheese."

After lunch, which was filled with conversation regarding the difference between VHS tapes and DVDs for whatever reason, they cleaned up the dishes and laid on the couch, both full. Emma looked at the time and was shocked to see it was already late afternoon.

"Your dad's gonna be home soon, isn't he?" Stiles nodded with concerned eyes.

"You can still stay here, you know, you don't have to-"

"No, no, I know," she replied with haste, "I'm just... I don't know if..." She sighed.

"What?"

"I don't- it's nothing against your dad, I just... I don't want to be here just because... you know, I don't know- I don't really wanna see anyone else right now."

"I totally get it," Stiles answered, holding a big, warm hand against the small of her back, "We can go somewhere." Emma bit her bottom lip and looked down at her lap. "We said we'd watch the stars tonight, didn't we?" Emma felt a smile grow on her face.

"The stars won't be out for a while," she teased.

"Great, we can watch the sunset, too." Emma looked up at his golden brown eyes and finally smiled.

Soon enough, they were lying on the hood of the Jeep, which Stiles had driven up to a lonely, forested hill. The sun had just set and darkness was slowly creeping up on the sky. The wind was brisk, but not too cold. The mellow music playing from the car's radio filled her ears as she stared up at the sky, feeling immeasurable, feeling endless. Emma turned her head to look at Stiles, and he quickly turned his to look at her, too.

"You're so pretty," he mumbled. Emma snickered and dug her cheek into her chin. "You _aaare_," he whined. Emma smiled at him in appreciation and sighed, glancing up at the sky again. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, the darkness had taken complete dominance over the sky and slowly, stars pierced through the sheet of night. "You see that cluster of stars right there?" Stiles whispered.

"I see about three hundred," she answered with a chuckle.

"Riiiight there," he softly said, leaning closer to her and pointing. Emma followed the length of his arm with her eyes and reached to where his finger was pointing, to a swirl of flurry in the sky, bright specks bundled up close to each other like the entangled threads in cotton.

"Oh, yeah?"

"That cluster right there... I have absolutely no clue what it's called." Emma gushed in laughter, gripping Stiles' arm and pulling it down.

"Make up a name for it," she giggled.

Stiles cleared his throat, "How about... something French... so it sounds fancy."

_"Rouge à lèvres_."

"Whoa," his eyebrows raised in wonderment, "That... that works. What does it mean?"

Emma smirked, "Lipstick. Don't ask me how I know it." Stiles laughed boyishly. "Stiles?"

"Yeah?" Emma didn't know what it was... maybe the incredible feeling she had gotten once she realized just how big the world was, or maybe the fact that he couldn't see her so clearly anymore due to the mask of darkness... but she finally got the courage to say what had been on her mind all day.

"About what you said," Emma paused, the cold metal of the hood of the car biting her cheek,"...this morning at the station."

"Oh, okay, we're gonna do that, huh?" Stiles nervously mumbled, looking back up.

"I'm sorry I didn't say it when you said-"

"Don't be sorry," he quickly looked at her, "I don't ever want you saying or doing anything you don't want to around me, okay? I want you to do what you want to do when you're with me. I want you to feel safe with me." He fixed his gaze back at the night sky, the moon's haze beautifully hitting his features.

"Well, I... Stiles, I really..." Emma sat up, resting back on her elbows. Stiles quickly noticed and he did the same. Emma felt her heart racing. Pounding. Screaming. "Can you say it again?" she lowly mumbled.

Stiles smiled at her, the dimples caving into his cheeks.

"What?" he said, a shake in his voice.

"Please?" Stiles licked his lips.

"Okay, um..." For the first time in quite a while, they had an awkward tension between them. It wasn't an unsettling type of awkward, though. It was the type of awkward that had to exist. "I love you." His bright hazel eyes met hers. Emma was left with her heart hammering and her mouth dry, letting out the massive amount of air she didn't know she had trapped in her lungs. To her surprise, Stiles continued, "You're all I think about, every minute of every day... and- and you make me such a better person and I really like myself when we're together, we're- we're just good together, you know? It's easy and it's fun and I... love you." He was left breathless and Emma couldn't help but laugh at all of his rambling.

"I love you, too," she said quickly, the words becoming so much lovelier than she thought they would. The grin that formed on Stiles' face was absolutely dazzling, absolutely incredible. The fact that she was the reason behind that smile brought her extreme joy.

"Yeah?" he beamed a goofy smile. She looked down and nodded, tightly pressing her lips together. "Can you say it again?" he mocked her. Emma laughed and rolled to her side, resting her head on Stiles' chest. She felt his lips press against the top of her head as she settled herself on his heart. He murmured something unintelligible in her hair.

Emma felt her phone buzz in her pocket. And suddenly, that moment of elation turned into a moment of complete fear.


	40. So Much

_Reviews are my favourite. :-) Love you all!_

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles watched Emma's wide brown eyes dart around as she shuffled to pick up her phone. Her breathing was hitched, her hands shaking.

"Hello?" she answered breathlessly. Emma looked up at Stiles as the person on the other end spoke to her. Her eyebrows quickly rose as a smile grew on her face. _He's okay_, she mouthed to Stiles. He held Emma's free hand and squeezed, mirroring her grin. "Yes, okay, I'll be there." Emma hung up and scooted off the hood of the car. "My dad's at the station," she panted, "He's okay, he's alive!" She scurried to the passenger side of the Jeep and quickly put on her seat belt. Stiles was still sitting on the hood of the car, observing Emma's restlessness. "Come on!" she shouted. He was snapped out of his daze and got into the car, starting the loud engine.

"Sorry," he laughed, "I've just never seen you so jumpy." As he drove down the dirt path of the hill, he heard Emma gasp. "What?" Stiles urged.

"I'm s-sorry, I didn't even consider... I just expected you to drive, I'm sorry... you can drop me off at my house, I have my car there and I can drive-"

"Emma," he laughed, "One of these days you're gonna pull a muscle from being too nice." Emma nudged him. "And I wouldn't trust you to operate heavy machinery in this condition."

"God, feel like a giant weight has been lifted off of me. I was so scared," she breathed.

**Emma's POV**

"I'm so happy everything's okay," Stiles replied.

But was everything okay? Her father was alive, and it felt like her heart could barely handle the happiness she was feeling. But what happened that night her father disappeared? He was alive, but in what condition? Emma sighed. _Everything_ wasn't okay. This wasn't over. It wouldn't be that easy. She lolled her head back on the headrest and gazed at the road ahead of them with half-open eyes.

Soon, they were at the station. Stiles parked the Jeep fairly close to the entrance then turned to look at Emma. She met his gaze and didn't know what to say or do. She knew what she was feeling as much as he did. He squeezed her knee and got out of the car. Emma took off her seatbelt as Stiles came around the other way, opening her door for her. She stepped out and Stiles closed the door. They quietly stood facing each other beside the car.

Stiles' voice broke the silence, "Do you... do you wanna go alone? I can come if you-"

"No," Emma breathed, staring at her feet. She wanted Stiles to go with her. So badly. But she had to do this alone. She knew she had to see her father and speak to him and live through it on her own, even if it was just for a day. She was strong. "I should go alone," she answered.

"Okay," he replied. Emma couldn't tell if he was upset or relieved. Just that he was supportive. "I'll see you later then, okay?" Emma met eyes with him again.

"We've spent the last... what, thirteen hours together?" Emma snickered, "Saying goodbye is going to be hard."

"I... I," Stiles sarcastically whimpered, "I don't know if I can do this." Emma chuckled and stepped closer to Stiles, resting her hands on his chest. So quick it surprised her, he took her face in his hands and pressed his mouth on hers. Warmness spread through her entire body. Her surroundings turned into a complete blur as he softly mashed his lips against hers. Emma forgot to breathe and after they remained suspended in the kiss for a few seconds, she slowly pulled back, letting out a big sigh. She felt so loved. So important.

"Just remember that- no matter what, that you've survived everything up to this point," Stiles kept his warm, big hands on the sides of her face, "You can survive anything." Emma grinned.

"I never thought of it that way," she answered. The side of his mouth fluttered into a smirk, his dimple deepening into his cheek. "I'll call you when I can?"

Stiles nodded, "Sounds good."

"Thanks," she whispered, looking down at her hands, which were still pressed against his chest. Stiles flattened his lips against her forehead, hard. The way he was holding her face in his hands and was kissing her made it feel like it was impossible for him to stop holding her. At the moment, she felt as if it was impossible to not let him.

"I love you," he said hoarsely. "So much." Emma's heart skipped a beat.

"I love you, too," Emma answered. Somehow for her, it was the easiest and the hardest thing to say, at the same time. They eventually parted, saying goodbye with their meaningful stares. Emma walked towards the station and felt as if every muscle tensed up tighter with every step she took. She finally reached the building and walked to the front desk, giving a tight-lipped smile to the receptionist. "I'm here for my dad- uh, sorry, Bruce Landson?"

The woman silently typed on her computer then picked up the phone, rapidly pressing some buttons. The door beside the desk opened with a blare. Emma bit on her bottom lip and walked towards the door. She was met with the Sheriff, who approached her with a smile.

"Hello," he greeted her warmly, "Follow me." They went through the hallway and ended up in the office, near the room she'd given her report the previous night. They rounded the corner and Emma's father appeared with a half-smile on his face. He looked drained and exhausted, but still happy.

"Emma," her father announced with a smile. She threw her hands around her dad's neck and held him tightly. She couldn't remember the last time she even hugged her father but made a silent promise to herself that she'd do it more often. The realization that he was alive and okay and that she didn't lose her entire family finally hit her like a ton of bricks.

"Dad, you're- you're okay?" her voice was muffled by the sweater he was wearing.

"Completely," he answered loudly.

"What- what happened?" Emma asked. She looked up and her father's eyes met hers. It was clear they were both remembering every detail of happened that night. The break-in, the noise, the furniture... the way Emma dug a knife into the back of the werewolf attacking her father. Her heart suddenly sank once she realized that she left that knife, with the blood on it, on the floor in her room. She prayed the police didn't search the house, or at least upstairs.

"I'll tell you," he answered.

"I hate to do this, Emma, but we haven't had a chance to get your father's full story," the Sheriff interrupted with a shrug, "Protocol." Emma nodded and looked as if she understood, but inside she was yearning to just get home and feel safe again. The Sheriff stepped away and Emma's father firmly held her hand between his.

"This is over," he said in a hushed tone once no one was around to hear them.

"What?"

"You have nothing to worry about."

Emma's forehead crinkled in confused, "But how do you know- how do you know they're not gonna... try to-"

"They're not," Bruce sternly replied, "I've made it clear I'm an omega."

"Omega?"

"I exist without a pack. They won't be bothering us any more."

"How did you... make it clear?"

"Emma, we can discuss this later. I'm going to give a report then we're going home. This is all over." With that, Emma slouched and stared down at the ground. She decided to sit in one of the chairs that were lined up against the opposite wall. She watched her father disappear in the room. Emma sighed. Her dad was okay. And he said it was over. That everything would be okay. Hopefully, he was telling the truth this time.


	41. Don't Be Sorry

**Stiles' POV**

Stiles drove out of the police station's parking lot, not entirely sure where he was going. He just needed to drive. He sighed, realizing that he was so connected to Emma that he felt as if everything that had happened to her was happening to him. Stiles tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he thought of her. The amount of pain she'd been through and was going through brought up uncontrollable feelings of anger in him. It wasn't fair. He frowned, hoping she was okay.

**Emma's POV**

Emma sat outside the room in which her father was giving his report. She wondered what he could possibly say. She was sure whatever really happened couldn't be told to a police officer- they'd think he's crazy. She picked at her fingernails as the minutes passed and finally Bruce emerged out of the room, with the Sheriff behind him patting his back with a smile on his face. This looked good. Emma's father waved at her to join them and she quickly and silently did so.

"You two have a good night," the Sheriff said, "Bruce, I'll see you tomorrow." Tomorrow? What? "Emma." He greeted with a tight smile. Confused, Emma followed her father as he parted from the Sheriff and walked out of the station.

As they sat in the car, Emma yearned for her father to tell her everything but she tried to be considerate and realize he needed time. All Bruce did say was that after their home wasn't ruled a crime scene anymore, the Sheriff settled to have the house professionally cleaned. Emma's heart sank. The knife. What if they went upstairs? What if they find it? No, they would have questioned her about it. But... maybe not?

Once they got home, Emma stormed through the front door, tracking in a tread of dirt onto the clean hardwood floors. She took her first step up the staircase to check her room and hopefully find the knife there... but was stopped by her father's voice. She turned around to see her own dad in the most vulnerable state she'd ever seen him in.

"I'm so sorry," he said under his breath. Emma gasped and stepped back down to hug her father. She stood with her arms around his torso and rested on his chest, her adrenaline still rushing through her body.

"Don't be sorry, dad," Emma's voice came out softer than she'd expected.

"No," he grumbled, "How scared you looked... all because of me-"

"Dad," Emma said sternly, "Don't be sorry." She didn't want him to feel bad for anything. He never chose to be what he was. He had nothing to be ashamed of. It wasn't until then that she realized the guilt he must have been living with for so long. Emma didn't just lose a mother and a sister- he lost a wife and daughter. Emma tightened her arms around him. "Don't be sorry," she echoed. "It's okay now."

He cleared his throat, "You hungry?"

"Not really, but I can make dinner," she suggested. She pulled away and headed to the kitchen. "Come on." She heard her father kick off his boots and follow her. She prepared a sandwich for him as he silently sat at the dinner table. He looked absolutely exhausted. She wanted to ask him everything but maybe it had to wait. His appearance told her he desperately needed to sleep.

Emma set the plate and a glass of water in front of her dad and sat across from him, grabbing an apple from the fruit basket.

"Thank you," he mumbled. He seemed to eat the sandwich in a minute. "Don't you... want to know what happened?"

"Dad, you look exhausted. I just... all I care about is that you're okay. You can tell me later." He looked at her with tired eyes.

"Go ahead, just ask. You deserve to know." It was so strange to see her father so open and willing to talk. He was never like that. Maybe the occurrences of the past day had changed him.

"Okay," Emma cleared her throat, "What happened?"

"Well... after you... went upstairs- as soon as I heard the police sirens, I knew I had to get out of the house. So I ran... and naturally he followed. I'm not quite sure how but he knocked me out... I woke up in this room..." he sighed, "But... I got out. And we won't be having any problems with them ever again."

Emma nodded. "But- what did you say when you gave your report?"

"Well... with this... infliction- I have the ability to influence people." Emma sat back.

"Have you ever..."

"Used it on you?" her father seemed to read her mind, "Think about how many times you've disobeyed me." Emma half-smiled. "Never. I would never do that. I only use it when it's absolutely necessary." Bruce seemed to pick up on his daughter's nervous expression, "Don't be scared, Emma. I promise you that it's over. I... made that clear."

"Yeah... _Omega_, right?" Emma breathed. Her father nodded. "Dad... did you kill anyone?" She didn't know why she asked that.

"Emma," Bruce took a long sip of his drink, "If I didn't, they would have killed me. And maybe even y-" He stopped himself.

"I just don't believe it... that everything's okay... I feel like something bad will happen. Something bad always happens."

"I understand, Emma. It's good to anticipate like that, it keeps you prepared. But it's over. I promise. You can breathe now." A hot tear flooded out of Emma's eye and quickly fell down her cheek as she blinked. But.. she had to make sure it was over. She had to make sure that knife was still in her room.

"I'll be right back," Emma announced. Her father must have assumed she just needed some time alone because she was crying; he just nodded understandingly and watched his daughter walk out of the room. Emma knew that if the knife was there, that meant it really was all over. The fear and pain and anxiety that had consumed her life would be wiped out. The knife served as a symbol to her- its presence would mean she'd have her life back.

She stumbled into her room, hurried over to the bed and finally looked down to the floor, praying she'd find the gleaming token of her relief.


	42. His Other Half

_Well, it's been a great journey. :-) I've had a great experience writing this fic and I'd like to thank all the patient lovelies who have stayed with me this entire time! I feel like I've grown a lot as a writer. I hope to write a lot more fan fic and am aiming to be much better at updating at decent times! Thanks again for all your reads and reviews, I appreciate it. :-) I hope you enjoy the last chapter of His Other Half._

**Emma's POV**

A massive weight lifted itself off of Emma's chest once she saw the black handle of the knife peeking out from under the bed. She collapsed to the ground and exhaled, feeling as if all the suffering she'd been through had escaped her body with that single breath. Emma reached out and lightly touched the knife with the pad of her finger, as if it had the power to disappear at any minute.

Emma went back downstairs to find her father in the same position. She realized it would take him a while to get over the turmoil he'd gone through the past year but she would do her best to make it easier for him. He looked at her and mirrored her smile. Emma's change in mood seemed to strike her father.

"It really is all over, isn't it?" she regarded. Bruce nodded with a wider smile. "Dad, I love you, but you look awful- I think you need a good twelve hour nap." He chuckled.

"At least," he mumbled. He got out of his seat and stretched.

"Hey, didn't the Sheriff say he'd see you tomorrow?"

"Yup," he tucked in his chair, "It's Monday." Emma stared at him. "Work."

"You're going back to work already?"

"What else would I do?"

"Relax?"

"_You're_ telling me to relax, huh?" he asked. Emma crossed her arms and chuckled. "You definitely take after me in that way... always working."

"Just go to sleep, old man," Emma muttered. Her father chuckled and stepped closer to her to kiss her forehead.

"Good night," he grumbled. Emma sighed happily. She couldn't remember the last time the two of them could joke like that. There was always tension, always a dark cloud.

Finally, they were beginning to heal.

Finally, all the negativity was gone.

***** THREE MONTHS LATER *****

Emma sat cross-legged in the soft grass in between the two marble gravestones. She had her arms out beside her, fingers spread on the ground, staring at the two symbols of memoriam. Emma stood up and joined Stiles and her father, who were standing behind her. She linked her arm in Stiles' as the three of them looked down at the graves of her mother and sister.

"It's a beautiful day," Emma mumbled, "Windy but warm... mom's favourite type of weather." Her father nodded in agreement. She felt him squeeze her arm. "I can almost hear how Layla would scoff at my cheesiness." The three of them shared a sad yet light chuckle and treaded away from the spot. Emma suggested lunch. They were soon sitting in the first restaurant they saw after leaving the cemetery.

"Aaaand a rootbeer, please," Emma asked the waiter. He nodded and walked away from the table.

Stiles leaned closer to her, "If you were to get a papercut on that menu right there, I'm sure you'd bleed rootbeer."

"Right?" her father laughed, "One may say addiction, but that's not even the beginning of it." The two of them shared a moment of laughter.

"Oh, don't mind me, I'm just sitting right here, getting made fun of..." Emma laughed, happy to see that her boyfriend and father had gotten so comfortable with one another. The rest of the day was spent in a quiet, peaceful haze.

The following afternoon of the next day, Stiles and Emma were riding in the Jeep with the windows down on their way to Emma's house. The summer was just beginning with only a couple weeks left in the school year. The brisk currents of wind coming into the vehicle cooled them from the beating sun as Stiles' current favourite band blasted from the radio. Emma laughed for absolutely no reason at all... just because she was happy... and looked over at the boy who had completely taken over her heart. He smirked back at her, looking like he knew the reason behind her giggling.

The two of them reached the empty house and habitually made their way up to Emma's room. It had become a routine of theirs to take after-school naps with each other... sleeping together in the most innocent way possible. They lay in her bed on their sides facing each other, discussing how fast the school year had passed, until Stiles' eyes lowered, setting a more serious tone between them.

"You're incredible," Stiles breathed, his eyes calm, "You've been through so much and been hurt so many times and you still have so much room in your heart to love and to care. You're the kindest person I've ever known, Emma." Emma's eyes travelled over his face, over the eyes that so many times seemed to be the only solace in her life, over the freckles that she had completely memorized, over the smile that made her feel like the most important person in the world. "And I know I tease you a lot for it, but your kindness- just the compassion you have... it's amazing. When we first began seeing each other, I constantly told myself that I didn't deserve you..." Emma shook her head_ no_ with her eyes closed, "But somehow, you've made me believe I deserve everything. You've made me whole again."

"Stiles," Emma was at a loss for words. She traced the side of his face with her index finger, feeling the coarse stubble along his jaw.

"You know, I went over to Scott's the other day... and his mom asked me how come I'd been so... not-a-basketcase lately." Emma laughed. "And Scott mentioned you. And how you seemed to bring out everything that I'd never been able to bring out before. He said, _she's basically his other half_. Which you really are. If I had to define it."

Emma leaned closer to him and put her lips against his. "I... love... you," she stated between kisses. Stiles smiled under the last one and pulled her closer to him. As she lay in the soft, warm cotton cocoon of the bedsheets and in Stiles' warm, vulnerable grip, she felt as if everything was put behind her. Closing her eyes, she realized she really was going to be okay. No worries. Just peace.


End file.
